


Piety

by Miss_Lv



Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Coming of Age, Courtship, Elemental Magic, Fluff, Gift Giving, M/M, Masturbation, Rites of Passage, Rituals, Sweet, Voyeurism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-16
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 03:21:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 33,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23678302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Lv/pseuds/Miss_Lv
Summary: When Newt turns sixteen he must make an offering to one of the six domains of magic, land, air, fire, water, life, and death. He had always expected to belong to one and now he had no idea what to do when he receives offers he didn’t expect. It doesn’t help at all that the mysterious Graves has come to try and persuade him.
Relationships: Original Percival Graves/Newt Scamander
Comments: 187
Kudos: 1601





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Descriptions of underage masturbation but no other sex?! Shocking for me. 
> 
> So, this is my sort of reaction to what happening in the world right now. It's a very fluffy fic but it also has a lot of in-depth discussion of death while no one actually dies. So if that's something you're trying to avoid just be aware.
> 
> I will be posting this in four chapters, once a week!

Newt was not remarkable. 

He knew that and was fine with it, never wished for more, content how he was. 

Theseus was the star of the family with a great bright future ahead of him and Newt was quietly glad for that. The spotlight never felt right on him, he felt exposed and exhibited. More like an animal in a cage at a zoo than someone happy to be there. And so he never felt jealous of his brother, happy someone could do good things for the family and fine with being the one in the shadows. 

Everyone had always expected Newt to choose the land domain, to pick nature. 

Even Newt himself. 

“Oh my darling boy,” his mum sighed, putting her baking aside as she picked up her wand and went to the back door he was at. He waited patiently like he had been taught so she wouldn’t scold him. Her magic wooshed over his skin and the muck sticking to his shoes and legs vanished. Like a squirming snake her power ran over his body and cleaned up his clothing and skin. A few hours in the forest had left him rather a mess, more so after he slipped and then gave up trying to be careful. 

“I saw a niffler!” he proclaimed in excitement, waiting for her to nod before dashing into their kitchen. “He was brown and about this big,” he measured with his hands. “He sniffed at me and then vanished!” 

“Did he now?” his mother asked, amused as she set a glass of milk down on the table before she returned to her baking. Newt scrambled into the chair and obediently took a drink. He explained his busy day in the green belt down the road and his mother listened. His father as well when he came home. 

“Off in the woods again?” He laughed, smiling warmly at Newt as he ruffled his hair. His father was very touchy like Thee, always hugging and snuggling even though Newt was already eight. Practically a grown-up. Newt showed his father his leaf collection, all of them were bright red and yellow with autumn. They looked startling and pretty, even if the red ones made Newt think of blood which was a bit scary. He was too old for such nonsense. 

“We’ve certainly got someone born to a domain,” his dad mused at Newt. “Poor Theseus is struggling with his choice.”

Newt supposed he had been a bit proud to have done something even his perfect big brother hadn’t managed. Not better than Theseus or anything, just more knowing of himself or some such. 

Perhaps a wee bit smug. 

When Newt was old enough to go to Hogwarts he found himself drawn to the forests more than the castle. It was an amazing castle of course, with endless corridors to wander and explore but it was a bit dull to Newt. The forest was alive and breathing all around him, teeming with life just waiting to meet Newt. 

He was thirteen when he met a centaur. 

Newt had taken to walking along by himself in the forest during the day. He knew the trails well enough to not get lost. Even when they moved on him, trying to make mischief, he always found a way back. He had learned quickly to be respectful, not to poke or prod anything. Newt liked to wander and watch. Spotting creatures going about their day. He was working on drawing them, wanting to be able to make a likeness to all the wonderful things he saw. Perhaps he was a bit of air domain, active and wanting to learn all he could. Although studies outside creatures and their environments bored him. 

There was a jackalope nibbling at the grass, Newt laying down under some brush to sketch him. Trying to get the curve of the antlers right. It was hard to make it look right because they were both heavy-looking yet graceful as the creature moved. 

When the arrow pinned the beast Newt jerked in shock, eyes wide. The jackalope kicked a few times feebly, the life draining out of its eyes quickly. There was a certain stillness Newt thought as he looked at it. Something about a dead thing that was very obvious. An energy that screamed of death. The brush moved a few yards from him and Newt kept very still as a centaur stepped out, trotting to the kill. Immediately, Newt had many questions, about what the creature ate and how he moved, how his body digested food, how many stomachs did he have?

“It’s rude to stare,” the creature rumbled at him and Newt jolted and flushed with shame. 

“I’m sorry sir, I was just curious,” he explained, slipping from his hiding place and going a bit closer to the very tall and powerful creature. He could probably kick Newt clear across the field if he wanted. So fascinating. Newt wondered if he could break stone with a good hard kick. 

“Curious of what?” he grumbled down at Newt and he perked up. 

“Could you break stone with a kick? Or even kill your prey? Do you know how many stomachs you have?”

The centaur seemed caught off guard, peering down at Newt curiously as he did his best to wait for an answer.

“Oh- I’m sorry. I’m being r-rude. My name is Newt Scamander, what’s yours, sir?”

Eoin was his name it turned out and once he was certain Newt was very respectful of his territory and a bit star-struck at meeting an actual centaur, he was more willing to talk. 

Newt spent many days rushing from classes to find Eoin and learn more about his amazing race. Always jotting down notes and asking questions. It was clear the herd of centaurs were a good sort but didn’t take kindly to being seen as below humans which Newt wholeheartedly agreed with. 

“I think you know more than us really, living such a good life as you do,” he explained on a sunny day, watching Eoin skin a deer and helping as the centaur directed. He had thought Newt needed some more knowledge on hunting if he was ever going to mind himself. Newt was far too polite to refuse. Once he got used to the smell it wasn’t so bad. Centaurs killed quickly, not wanting to draw out suffering, which Newt admired. The meat he ate in the great hall came from some animal after all. At least these ones got to live free lives and centaurs used all their parts, their bones for tools, their fur for pelts, nothing was wasted. Humans could not say the same. 

“You’re teaching him?” Amhra, a very large centaur, frowned as he trotted up to Newt and Eoin. Over the last month, Newt had met most of the herd and done his best to be very polite and humble.

“He needs to learn, all skin and bones. Humans raise their young poorly,” Eoin grumbled and Amhra frowned at Newt who kept his gaze down and away in submission. 

“He came into the forest long before we met him, he’ll come long after. It’s clear he belongs to the earth.” Eoin added. 

Amhra’s long black tail twitched but he didn’t deny it, snorting before leaving them. Not all centaurs liked Newt very much. But he was determined to show them not all humans were arrogant. He didn’t think much about Eoin’s comment about Newt belonging to the land domain. It was pretty obvious that was where he should be. Newt loved the forest and all the creatures of it, more than the air, sea or fire, Newt felt in tune with the land. 

When he turned fifteen it mattered more. 

Students began to fuss and worry about it, their studies focused on domains and choosing the best suited. Forcing one’s self into the wrong domain would end up in ruin. Unstable magic that couldn’t really do much at all. 

They started from the very beginning in the classes, going over the old stories. Newt knew them all by heart already. His parents had told him and Theseus the tales as bedtime stories since they were babies. Explaining any questions they had as children long before they started schooling. It was the job of their parents to educate them before school after all. Magical children could not mix with muggles. They caused too many magical events to hide, not able to control their power. Plus they needed to be close to their mums. Drawing energy from them until they learned to do it themselves. Very few orphans survived unless special souls could form those deep bonds right away. But Newt had heard stories of dads or even older siblings being able to raise children on their own. Having a mum and dad sharing the strain made it easier but a single parent or family member could if need be. Even muggles could raise a magical child without knowing it, naturally giving them energy through an instinct they didn’t know they had. Either way, parents had to raise their children and educate them, teach them to read and write, how to spell and add and such. Newt had learned on his mum’s knee and through his dad’s voice, even Theseus had helped teach him.

All magic born knew that connections were the key to all things. 

An unseen circle looping everyone, giving and taking, a balance they all had to do their best to maintain. When they turned eighteen they would have to choose a domain, the greatest choice any magical born would make. 

They would make their pact and begin to draw their own magic from one of the six domains. There were heroes and legends of each one, creatures born from them and some believed deities tied to them. A single being, a god or goddess to represent the domain. Some people saw them when they made the pact and others did not. In some legends, these beings had even appeared to observe when important people made their oath but it had been many lifetimes since one had been seen. It didn’t matter in the end, the domain was its own special life force with or without a body to represent it. It was one of the six that ruled the world and the very being inside all life. 

It was what gave them their lives and their magic. 

Newt’s mum was water domain, compassion and devotion, his dad was the air domain, logical and charming, and Theseus had picked fire domain, passionate and focused. It felt right that Newt would pick land domain, stable and consistent. Most families had many domains and too much of one made for disharmony some said. A perfect balance seemed fated for the Scamander’s. 

They went over it all again in class, picking apart the strengths and weaknesses of each domain and the ever-changing ways of humanity. They went over digging deep, meditation, and focusing on finding the best domain. People could potentially change domains when they were older, or if they really, really, had too. But it was very hard to do and many people died trying. Giving up all their magic to try and push down one domain and pull up another. The domains were all inside everyone and once their bodies settled with one dominant domain, it was extremely painful on the body and mind to try and change it. Newt winced at the terrible pictures in the school books, old drawings of people hunched over clasping their heads as they went insane and others bedridden as their bodies faded into nothing. 

“Can you imagine? ” Leta asked in a whisper and Newt shook his head, not wanting to even picture it.

“You’re lucky,” she mused softly. “You know your domain already.” 

Newt glanced at his only real friend. “Don’t you?”

Leta had always wanted to be land domain as well and they had talked about it for ages. It had always seemed certain in a way, determination if nothing else. 

“I know what I want to be,” she explained and Newt nodded his head, understanding. You couldn’t force a domain, you had to let it come to you. Trying to push into one could mean you were ignoring the other one calling. Newt wondered sometimes if the air domain might not suit him in many ways. They were known for this social awkwardness and struggle to empathize with people properly. Newt felt a right kinship to that. But the land did suit him even more, logical yet nurturing, loyal and hardworking, cautious and stubborn, overprotective and scornful. 

“I’m sure you’ll choose the best,” Newt offered up, knowing that was what you were to say to someone unsure. Not the right choice, the best one. No choice was right or wrong, just some suited better than others. 

He doubted Leta had anyone at home supporting her either. She had always been teased for how unstable her magic was, taking from a father who barely acknowledged her. People said mean things about her and Leta was determined she would gain her own power and show them. The better suited the domain, the stronger the magic would come through. So making a perfect choice was key to achieving strong magic, which many people hungered for. Newt would be happy with a usual amount, able to mind himself and those he cared for. 

As all students did, Newt participated in tests and challenges to help him determine his best domain. Even knowing which suited him best already, he needed to test in case something suddenly called louder. But, it was clear where he belonged. The puzzles and riddles all ended in the same direction. Newt was destined for the land domain, even his professors were certain of it. 

Sixteen was a special birthday to the magical.

Newt was excused from classes for the week before his own and sent home to his family to prepare. At sixteen he would take his first steps from relying on his family's magic and finding his own. He would make his very first contact with the domains on his own rather than through his mum or dad.

It was exhilarating and terrifying. 

He was going to connect with the power of all life. 

Exhilarating and terrifying. 

“It’s hard to describe it really, it’s a really amazing thing, shocking and comforting at the same time, scary but safe,” Theseus attempted to explain in the days leading up. “You’ll see.”

“It’ll be fine,” his mum simply said, utterly sure. 

“It rarely goes wrong,” his dad offered logically. 

Newt spent a fair amount of his time alone, as expected. Walking on his own and trying to reflect on the best way to reach out to the domains. There was a ritual and words but how someone actually took that first step was up to them. Some showed it in fancy ceremonies and expensive clothing, some did their first ritual in plain cloth or nude. Others offered a bit of blood to show their serious commitment, there was no wrong way to do it. Only the best way for an individual. So Newt was left to come up with it on his own. He barely remembered Theseus' ceremony, Newt on the other side of the fire and still rather young. Theseus kneeling and offering up something. He had burned it and thus began his connection to the fire domain. How was Newt to offer something to the land? Bury it perhaps? 

He walked along the old trails he made as a child, along the greenbelt from tree to tree that he recognized still. It felt smaller, this green space, after walking through the forbidden forest. But Newt felt nostalgic within it, trailing fingers over bark he had scurried up for years as a boy. 

Pretty pink flowers were blooming on long stems along the little stream and Newt admired them in the sunlight. His fingers tickled along them and he wondered if something old and traditional might work best for him. 

Newt walked past the little green area and passed the outskirts of his home. Leaving paved roads for dirt that faded into green grass. The forest wasn’t a magical one but it was large and when he was a boy, it had been very forbidden. It suited him he thought, walking where he couldn’t as a child, plucking flowers that caught his eye, any flora that stood out to him. Newt tried not to think on it, picking without considering. Acting on instinct. He had always had the habit of picking things up, bits and pieces of nothing. Scraps of parchment, smooth stones. A bit like a crow he supposed. 

His shoe clicked on something pointed and Newt found an old worn antler long dropped and chewed by some other animal. He fetched the splinters and walked on looking for whatever the forest would give him to work with. A dark blue feather, a bit of a canine tooth, some dark golden sap dripping down a tree, Newt found little bits here and there. Not just for the land he realized along the way. He wanted to respect all the domains. 

Which could be a bit tricky. 

Four domains were easy enough, the feather for air and the fluid sap for water, he found an old fire pit with bits of sticks not completely burned, like curling black fingers on the ends. Some green moss to represent the land. It felt like a good choice and Newt was eager to find a muse and follow it. He only had a few days before his birthday and he needed something. 

But the other two domains would be much, much, harder. 

The domain of life and the domain of death. 

Some cultures across the world believed they were one in the same and others argued they were vastly different. It was a very controversial topic but all agreed that they were both very powerful. Life brought you into the world and set you on your path and death greeted you at the end to return you. What death held was a mystery, some believed in reincarnation other thought you became part of your domain. Both of the remaining domains were very important and representing them with the others was crucial. But how was the hard part. 

How could Newt honour all six domains with respect to the land domain?

“I know, technically, you can’t send me signs just yet, but I would really appreciate some sort of guidance,” Newt said lightly to the trees, walking around with one arm filled with his offering, inspecting bark and bushes, peering at stones and dirt. 

Dirt from over a grave might symbolize death but what would be that opposite? Air of some kind?

“I do want to be respectful you see,” he explained, mumbling to himself mostly. It helped him put his thoughts in order. Newt often mumbled to himself when he worked, something many people had told him was weird. 

“I suppose I am a bit odd, but it does really help. Death is a bit easy, isn’t it? Bone or gore, blood and sinew. Rotting fruit or decay, everything is dying a bit, even as it lives. Perhaps that’s the whole point?”

After walking for a few more hours, Newt made his way home, feet sore but in that good way. A day of something accomplished. He had an idea in his mind, a goal in sight. He just needed to decide the best way to represent the last two domains. 

“Some people buy things,” his mother suggested the next morning when Newt admitted he was a bit stuck. He really didn’t have time to waste on the matter so he went with his mum into the shops. Potion ingredients and rare treasures sparkling at him as they walked about. Nothing seemed quite right. It felt odd to use something someone else made in his offering. Newt sighed at the shiny baubles and wondered what was befitting to represent such sacred domains. 

“Oh how adorable, Newt come here love, you’ll like this,” his mum called and Newt went, walking up to the glass cases to peer with her. 

She pointed and there was a little gold niffler statue, charmed to grab a gem and shove it into its pouch only to drop it and then return to the form reaching for it. Playing on a loop it was a bit cute, the little creature wiggling its backside as it grabbed the gem. 

“You know, you used to blame everything on a niffler as a boy,” he mum teased and Newt ducked his head. 

“I did not,” he protested but his mum just smiled at him, not believing it for a moment. 

“You did, the niffler took the sugar, the niffler left the window open, the niffler ate your maths.” 

“Mum,” he huffed, embarrassed as she reached to pat his cheek. 

“It feels like it was just yesterday when you were so young, Theseus too. Now we're looking for materials for your first offering. You’ve just grown up so fast.”

“Mum,” Newt sighed, feeling affectionate as his mum pressed a kiss to his cheek. 

“We’ll find something dear, I just know it.” 

Newt nodded his head just to please her and they went back to looking at the jewels and delicate precious stones. 

Something about the way they shone stayed in Newt’s head as they walked through the rest of the shops. Nothing stood out to him after that. Various objects were put in his hands and he had no real reaction to them. Perhaps it was because his mom had gotten all soft when they were looking, but the shine remained. Perhaps that was a sign enough, his adoration for his mother. 

When they arrived home Newt greeted his father as he walked in the door and then went upstairs to try and focus on ideas forming. 

He worked on assembling what he had, putting the fauna and flora he had collected together. A circle was the obvious choice, the domains were usually displayed in one. A symbol of unity and the cycle, ever repeating. Newt dug through his old room, a little spot with delicate and powerful extension charms to give him room. Shelves lined with all sorts of things he had picked up and brought home from Hogwarts over the years. Bits of dried flowers and plants, delicate bones cleaned with care. Newt rolled a stone from the lake in his fingers for a bit before finding a place to set it. The burnt twigs began to form almost a crown, so Newt built it up, adding more pointed bits facing upward and downward, the heavens and hells. Tipping his head, Newt scrutinized his creation, wishing he had more time, that he had worried more about what he would make. He had always known he would make it with his own hands. Build something up from something found in nature. 

Perhaps he needed a touch more, a bit of magic. 

It felt like an epiphany and he felt silly for not considering it before. Everything was non-magical, he needed to add some magic! 

“Are you hungry dear?” His dad called through the door. No one was to see what he was making until he presented it. So Newt went to the door and opened it a crack. 

“I’m making headway I think,” he explained and his father offered him a bright smile. 

“That’s my boy, take a plate, either way, food will help you think.” A plate of food came up the stairs and Newt nodded, taking it as his father left him be. He had always been confident of Newt and it felt nice that he was sure he wasn’t mucking it all up. 

Transfiguration was one of Newt’s weakest skills and so one of the few he worked the hardest on. He ended up spending the night doing his best to take bits and pieces from around his room and making something worthy of the idea in his mind. 

The moonlight fell on his desk when he finally, finally succeeded. His family was long in bed and Newt felt bad for drawing so much energy from his parents to keep trying to transfigure. He was usually very careful how he used magic knowing they felt it just as much as he did. But the well felt deep, more than usual. He knew if anytime they would understand, this would be it. It almost felt like they were pushing magic at him, Theseus as well from somewhere, all of them cheering for Newt. 

He couldn’t give up now. 

He finished the second piece shortly after the sun rose. Newt held the small golden stone up into the sunlight to admire the way it reflected the morning light. 

A sun opal to match his moonstone, both tiny but flawless pieces made with some of his dearest treasures as a child. Two symbols for the same journey, a beginning and an end, the sun and moon ever in cycle. 

Newt hoped it was good enough, that the idea would suit. Offerings were very private but they could also be poorly done. 

But Newt had little time left. 

He went down for breakfast with a yawn, his father cooking fluffy pancakes.

“Morning,” his dad offered, looking exhausted himself. 

“I’m sorry,” Newt began, feeling guilty but his father held out a hand for silence at once. 

“I’d be far more worried if I wasn’t dead on my feet. It’s important that you take this seriously and do the very best you can. Your mum was very happy when she woke and needed to sleep in.” His father explained and gave Newt a warm smile. 

“I’m proud of you.”

Before Newt could reply the back door opened and closed with a hurried step in the distinct manner of Theseus. 

“Newt!” Was the brief warning Newt received before he was scooped up into an over-vigorous hug. 

“You’ve grown so much! Your first offering,” Theseus grinned in Newt’s hair. “I’m so proud.”

Their father watched them both fondly, offering Newt no help to escape his sibling. 

“Thank you, Theseus,” Newt sighed, patting his brother's arm reluctantly as Theseus showed no sign of letting him go.

After a hearty breakfast to get his energy back up, Newt took a much-needed nap to rest and prepare for the ceremony. It always took place at sunset, when the light and dark crossed paths. There would be a fire burning in a pit and lit candles from many family members, dozens that dated back across both his parent’s family lines. Newt would make his own set when he officially took a domain. As many as he wanted for his bloodline. Everyone younger than him would be gifted one to help with their ceremonies. Newt had a handful of cousins he would have to give one to them, too. Theseus had when it was his turn, making them with care and presenting Newt with the first one and then the rest of their younger family. When their parents passed, the candles they had would pass to Theseus and Newt to share, to keep them together. 

But Newt had a few years before he had to worry about candle making. 

Right now he just needed to be ready to make an offering, to present himself to the domains. 

His crown of flora and fauna would do well he hoped, the sun opal and moonstone he had made settled in the front with various symbols of the other domains throughout the crown. As long as he put time and care into it, the domains would be pleased. As long as he truly tried his best, they would know. His parents and professors had all reassured him so. 

And it was his best. 

Right?

Newt huffed, twisting in his bed and turning on his side so he could stare at his offering. 

He had tried to do his best, had put time and thought into it. Newt had known for a long time it would be bits of nature and creatures. He just hadn’t been sure what it would be or where he would find what he needed. But it was important not to start too early and overthink and second guess himself into a mess. 

No, this felt best so it had to be. 

It would all go well, what else could he offer really? His very flesh and blood? 

It was supposed to be a ridiculous thought but the moment it came Newt sat up in his bed. Of all the times to offer too much, this felt like the best one. A bit of blood in his offering fitted his idea, it would show just how serious he was. 

Newt got up and fetched a knife he used for dissecting and frowned at his wrist, wonder where the cut should come from? His chest maybe, something vital without actually endangering himself. Newt pulled open his sleeping shirt and pressed the knife in, hesitating when it needed more pressure. 

Just a quick poke, he thought and made himself jab in. Pain bloomed like a bite and Newt winced as he pulled the blade away. It wasn’t deep or wide, nothing dangerous. But a trickle of blood started when Newt didn’t put pressure on it. He fumbled to work, pressing fingers to the wound and rubbing his blood along the crown, the curve of the antler and the quill of the feather. He managed to paint all six domains.

Sitting back, he felt better. Pressing a cloth to his chest he stared at his offering and hoped it would do well. 

But…

Newt chewed his lip, unsure.

He wanted to add more, he decided. But what more could he add of himself? Newt knew putting too much was considered arrogant but blood alone didn’t quite feel enough. Skin or hair, nail trimmings or spit, Newt’s mind flipped through potion ingredients he knew and tried to decide which he could offer. 

It should be linked and when he thought about it, his mind offered up one embarrassing idea. Being in a dormitory meant he shared his room with others. Newt had always found it awkward to sleep there, much less anything more private. So when he did… do such things he usually did them in the forest where he was left alone. The trees and creatures had no interest in such things. Eoin had caught him once and not even blinked, asking that he hurry up and come learn how to pluck a bird. 

He could feel his face burning red, but it did make a sort of sense. Offerings were very personal and extremely private. His family wouldn’t see it up close, they would never know. If they did, they would never say a word about it. Now that the thought had made its way into his head, it refused to leave. Newt could feel himself getting a bit hard. 

Sex wasn’t shameful to the domains, it was a way to create life and to revel within it. A coming of age rite, some magical places held celebrations for when their youths were considered old enough to develop sexually. 

Fertility and lust, carnal hunger and seduction, love and sex. There was nothing to be ashamed of. Still, Newt felt his nerves shifting as he fumbled a hand against himself. Pulling up his sleeping shirt, he took hold of his prick and worked it properly hard. 

Biting his lip, Newt let the images in his mind go as they pleased. Leta’s smile, Dumbledore's hands, Eoin’s shoulders, various people Newt knew, cared for. Closing his eyes tightly he thought of couples hidden in places at the school kissing, of people in the village clinging in the shadows and groping each other. The forbidden forest was dangerous but some couples liked that. Newt had seen a pair of older students once. The girl laid out on the moss and a boy between her legs, her skirt pushed up and his pants shoved down. Panting and grunting as they moved together. It had seemed so primal to Newt. Almost ferocious as they clung and moaned. The way the boy had jerked at the end, head thrown back as he spilled within the girl under him. She had been mad after but that very moment looped in Newt’s mind. That finishing breath and gasp. 

He spilled over his fist, warm seed hitting his knuckles as he whined out softly. Clasping a hand over his own mouth to muffle it, he finished, getting as much seed as he could. 

With a shaky hand. He put some on the crown, in between the leaves, hidden from clear sight. It was embarrassing to think about, but it still felt like what he needed to do. All of the things he could think of to make a strong and worthy offering to give to the domains. 

Finally feeling properly done, Newt slumped into his bed and fell asleep. 

His mother’s voice woke him, knocking on his door and calling him. Newt could feel sleep clinging to him still but he made himself get up at his mother’s voice. Sitting up as he shook his head and woke up properly. His offering sat on his desk, looking just as he left it. Still he felt his face go a bit red. 

“I’m up mum, I’ll be out in a bit.”

“Don’t forget to think about what you’ll wear,” she called back and then her footsteps faded down the hall. 

Newt had never worried much about clothing so he just wore his nicer robes, the ones his mum had him wear to fancy events. They were all black and a bit too large since they had belonged to Theseus. But they had been fitted for him and were comfortable. Newt didn’t think the domains were so shallow that clothing would matter. Still, to be respectful he wore his best clothes. 

It was nerve-wracking, taking these first serious steps towards his own magic, towards making a pact with a domain. But it was important, all those with magic who wanted to continue needed to start here. To begin preparing for leaving their family’s magic and finding their own. 

There were ceremonies of all kinds for these moments, special to each family and some made new. There was no wrong way to have a ceremony, as long as it was done with respect and intent. Still, passing down traditions was a good way to honour those who had come before them. 

So Newt went to the large square in the centre of the village for his ceremony. The whole village was magical and had worked hard to make this special place for all to use. It was part of the reason Newt’s parents had wanted to stay in the village, to have that community. Theseus had thrived on it and Newt supposed it had helped him as well, not needing to hide magic as he explored it growing up. 

The ceremony was to take place as the sun set, right when the day and night met. 

Newt and his family had already started a fire in the pit, everyone working barefoot to help create awareness, to ground them as they prepared to start the ritual. 

“There’s no wrong way to do this,” his father reminded him quietly. 

Newt had his offering covered up, he was supposed to present it. 

They started as usual, his parents leading and making an offering to their own domains and respectful appreciation of all the domains in general. They harmonized their magic within the circle. Six large stones were in a circle around them, all representing a domain. Outside the circle were everyday offerings from the village and the remains of special offerings made. There was even a coming of age offering from Mildred Henden from a few years back, flowers on the land domain still healthy as if set there this morning. Newt couldn't imagine having his offering on display for all to see every day. 

“Ready?” Theseus asked Newt gently and he blinked, realizing it was time now. They were alone thankfully. His parents had chosen not to invite family to the ceremony for Newt. Theseus had their uncles and aunts all present, cousins as well. They’d come tonight for the feast of celebration, but this moment here was just for Newt and his closest family. 

Swallowing his nerves and doing his best not to let his hands shake, Newt set down the offering on the dirt within the circle and for the first time in his life, stepped within as well. He could feel it immediately. 

Something humming under his toes and within the air, a bit like being by the sea, a weight within each breath. The air in his lungs was cool and invigorating while the heat of the fire in the centre was warming his legs. 

It was hard to explain, to put into words, an awareness all around him. Something very present, being watched, but by someone he trusted, a motherly gaze, a calm familiarity. 

Newt did his best not to let his nervousness make him foolish. With care, he lifted the sheet off of his offering and picked it up. His parents and brother were behind him now and he wasn’t supposed to look at their reactions. There would be time for that later. 

Newt needed to focus. 

He needed to be present in the moment and his mind speaking, calling out. Here he was, ready to make an offering to a domain and begin the road to giving his allegiance. For his very own magic to begin budding. 

Newt clutched the crown and held it up high for no real reason. He was acting on what he thought was right, trying to make this his own. He could see it gleaming in the fire and fading sunlight, the stones and dried blood. 

Some people said things, spoke words but Newt had none. 

This is me, please accept me, have me, I want to belong where you would have me, where you call me. 

It was like a loop in his mind, nothing else, just a desperate plea to find his place.

Closing his eyes tightly, Newt cast the crown down hard. It slammed into the fire and knocked over the logs, red embers flying as Newt’s eyes flew open. 

The vase of water at the water domain stone hissed as ember hit it and the wind picked more up, spinning them around the circle. Bits of Mildreds offering, leaves and flowers were caught as well, thrown about the circle. They seemed to whoosh around him, encircling him. Newt could feel something, there was no real way to explain it, just a sudden awareness of something that has always been there. Like focusing to hear better or concentrating to taste a flavour, something inside of Newt’s chest, within his beating heart. A burst of energy. 

Of magic. 

Newt was present in the moment, feeling it imprint on his memory. The six domains in harmony, all in sync and all working with one another. A perfect system, going through the world, through Newt himself. A flow of energy, of magic, that touched all. 

There was no such thing as something non-magical. Not really. 

The winds died down and Newt slowly stepped forward. 

Embers were under his feet but not burning them, bits of the vase that must have broken as well. With care, Newt walked the circle before stepping out, always moving forward and not backwards within it. 

When he left the circle, his awareness came back, like a bubble popping. 

He blinked and realized it was raining gently. 

That his family was staring at him. 

“I messed it up,” he breathed.

“No,” Theseus said first, shaking his head and reaching for Newt. He pulled him into a hug and turned him slowly towards the magic circle. 

“Newt, we thought it would be land domain, but...look,” he pointed and Newt peered at the utter mess he had made. 

There were embers and little fires all over the circles, broken glass and bits of leaves and flowers, vases smashed, everything that had been within and outside the circle was all ruined, crumbled and scattered. It was all placed strangely even then, as if laid with care and not caused by wind. 

On top of a stone would be a sign that a domain would have him, that Newt could try for it. He looked to the land stone and settled on top were tiny leaves and a flower that had grown from nothing, not part of Mildred’s ruined offering at all. Newt felt relief pulse within him. 

But then he noticed. 

There was rain pouring down the water domain stone and the air domain stone had bits of feathers shivering in the wind. The fire stone had embers sizzling on top of it. The death domain had splatters of blood, dripping down the grey worn stone. The life domain had a single firefly. 

All six domains had something on them. 

“It must be a mistake,” Newt breathed. 

“No,” Theseus replied, certain. “Newt, you’re meant for great things, all of the domains have offered to you.” 

“Oh darling,” their mom said suddenly, reaching out to hug Newt now. 

It felt very bizarre in the aftermath. 

They had the family feast and all his extended family was suddenly very interested in Newt. 

The whole village was whispering about Newt the next day, everyone had seen the community altar and the signs given to Newt. They all knew he was something special apparently and people who had never looked at him twice before were watching him far too intently now. 

Newt didn’t like the attention at all. 

He never liked the feeling of being watched, picked apart, people wanting something of him he could never guess at. So he hid away and was all too eager to return to Hogwarts. He was still no-one there and it felt like a relief to be able to move about without anyone watching or caring. None of the rumours about his offering had reached the school and Newt was happy to keep it that way for as long as he could. 

Leta was the only friend he had at Hogwarts and therefore she was the only one he told. Explaining quietly about the anxiety over it all and then finally making his offering. About the rush he felt when he gave it and the reaction that left everyone shocked. 

“It makes sense,” she said after, voice musing. They were tucked up in Newt’s hidden place. An old unused stairway where he could take care of creatures in peace. 

“It does?”

Leta nodded her head slowly. 

“You’ve always been different. You felt special to me in a way that I could never quite figure out.”

Newt stared a moment before looking away. 

“I’m not special,” he refused. 

“The domains would disagree,” Leta pointed out and Newt couldn’t refute that without being rude. 

“What will you do?” She asked after, watching Newt tend to an underfed bowtruckle. 

“I don’t know,” Newt answered honestly.

It started slowly. 

Newt didn’t link it right away, his mind all caught up in picking a domain. 

He would pick up the black raven feathers in his path absently, thinking they would make good quills. Old bones sticking out of the dirt when he walked in the forest. Unique and interesting ones that he would have to look up in old creature anatomy books to identify, unicorn vertebrae, niffler ribs, fire snake skulls, fascinating bits. Stones with odd shines, clear and coloured, were sticking up in the dirt. Newt always had to dig for what he found, always knowing it wasn’t something someone dropped. The mud and moss cradling the little finds. Newt absently collected them, his pockets overflowing and his bed and night table covered with them. As winter settled in, they were nice reminders of the forest floor in the summer months. 

Despite the cold, he still liked to go for walks. 

Newt met the raven long before he noticed. 

The large black bird sitting up in trees, always calm and still. 

And then one day he was jumping from his tree and giving out a sudden caw. Newt looked up as a single black feather drifted down to land in his hair. 

“Oh, thank you!” Newt called after the beast. 

A week after that a very large black cat dropped a very dead mouse on Newt’s book. He looked up from his hiding place where he was studying and the cat looked back a moment before meowing loudly. 

“Thank you,” Newt replied, feeling a bit silly but not wanting to be rude. That cat seemed pleased with that before it turned and vanished around a corner. 

He saw them both multiple times, bringing him little gifts. The crow likes shiny things and the cat usually brought him dead rodents or birds. Sometimes bits of bones. Newt always politely accepted them. 

Sometimes when he walked in the forest he would see large moths resting on unique plants. Usually, the more deadly ones and it happened often enough that Newt actually researched the link for a while. Trying to find out if there was a type of moth that was drawn to poisonous plants. 

As time went by, he didn’t think about how common it had become to him. From one new object a day to three or four. Even in the snow-covered forest, he found things, his eye learning to catch them right away. 

“What’s this?” Professor Dumbledore of all people asked during a class, seeming to notice a feather sticking out of Newt’s robes. 

“Scamander’s moulting,” someone muttered and the class laughed as Newt ducked his head. Professor Dumbledore never participated in the teasing like some of the other professors. Instead, he bent down and picked up a white clear stone off the floor. Newt had found it that morning. It had dirt clinging in the crevasses but it was very shiny. When the professor held it up to the sun it reflected dazzling colours. Newt had though the niffler he was looking after might like it. 

“I found it, sir,” Newt explained and the man peered at the stone for a very long moment. Enough that Newt began to worry. 

“Here you go,” Professor Dumbledore smiled easily, giving it back to Newt. He shoved it in his pocket and was glad when the class went on. 


	2. Chapter 2

Newt met Graves about four months after he made his offering. 

Taking walks in the Forbidden Forest was something Newt had always done. Going to visit the centaurs or sitting to study creatures in their habitats. It wasn’t odd for Newt to spend hours outside and only head back in when the sun was going down. 

It was a warmer day and there were more animals out and about. Newt settled against a large tree and worked on his homework. It was far easier to concentrate out in the forest than the stuffy library where students were constantly whispering. 

“Hello,” a crisp voice said and Newt nearly jumped out of his skin. Students were noisy and never snuck up on him. Even centaurs made enough noise that he would hear them unless they were hunting. 

There was a man standing down past the trees, peering at Newt. He was about ten or so feet away and wasn’t making any move to get closer. There were very rarely people in the Forbidden Forest and the students had been warned that it wasn’t often they were people with good intentions. This man, however, didn’t seem intent on anything evil. He was wearing a fancy suit, far too fancy for the forest, but he didn’t look ragged or about to attack. 

“Sorry for interrupting, but there’s a heavy snowstorm approaching, you best head back early or you’ll get caught in it.”

Newt looked up to the sky and realized the man was right, heavy dark clouds were rolling in from the south. 

“Oh, thank you,” he muttered but when Newt looked back the man was gone. 

A bit unnerved, he gathered his books and things quickly and made his way back to the castle. Newt looked over his shoulder multiple times but never saw the man again. 

Just as he reached the castle, heavy snow began to fall and Newt was thankful not to have been caught in it as an icy wind started up. 

His raven friend flew by and landed on the stone a few feet from Newt. 

“Hullo,” he offered and the raven gave a caw in answer before it took off into the skies. Newt hoped there was somewhere warm and safe waiting for the bird. Newt peered at the spot it had stopped at and sure enough, a little twig waited for him. A bit of curled in bark with a warm smell about it. 

“Making friends?” Professor Dumbledore asked and Newt started a bit, turning to look at him. The man was on the stairs and dressed in a heavy coat with gloves and a hat. 

“I was just coming to find you, we’ve been warned of a dangerous storm.”

Newt nodded his head. 

“I saw the clouds and came back.” The man he had met should have been mentioned but Newt found the words didn’t feel urgent. 

“That’s good. Have you received many blessings?” Dumbledore asked and Newt blinked at him. The man gestured to Newt’s twig and he started a bit.

“Oh no, this is just a bit of bark I think, the raven leaves me things like that often.”

He held it out for the man to inspect and Dumbeldore didn’t take it, just peered at it for a moment. 

“Cinnamon I suspect, a gift to suggest staying warm. I’ve noticed you’ve been finding them. The diamond you dropped in class was near flawless.”

“Diamond? No, it’s just a pretty rock, I’ve found plenty of them.”

“Since you’re offering?”

Newt opened his mouth and then closed it, a bit surprised. He had heard of blessings before but never thought what he was finding could be linked to them. 

“It’s very common Newt, to find a few little trinkets here and there.”

He nodded his head and glanced back out over the fields where the raven had gone. 

“Come on then, let’s get in,” Dumbledore suggested cheerfully as the wind took on a chill. 

Newt thought that would be the end of it, but the man sought Newt out a few days later. 

“How have your studies been?” He asked and Newt looked up in mild surprise. Not many people talked to him after all. He was doing free study in the main hall. The heavy snowstorm was keeping everyone cooped up and the library and main rooms all were packed full. 

“Oh, hello sir. They’re going good I believe,” Newt replied weakly, studying his wrist as he answered softly. 

“You’ve seemed troubled Newt, I had wanted to ask you if everything was alright?”

Newt nodded his head, chewing his lip weakly. 

“How did your offering go? I had meant to ask.”

Newt hesitated and then sighed out a bit. 

“Unexpected, sir.”

“I can recall my own, if you would believe it,” Dumbeldore said lightly. “I fully expected the fire domain.”

“You did?” Newt hadn’t heard of that before. 

The man nodded his head before sitting down on the bench beside Newt. 

“I had always expected it, so it came as a shock to me when all six domains answered me.”

Newt’s gaze shot up to the man, the professor looking back at Newt with a knowing look. 

“It can be very unsettling, to expect one thing and find another.”

“How...how did you choose?”

Should Newt be going into the life domain? He really had no idea what to do, his mind always picking one and then rethinking it the next week. How was he supposed to know, should he just go with his original plan with the land domain?

“It took time, a great deal of self-reflection as well. But as the time grew near, the right domain stood out to me,” Dumbeldore explained kindly. 

“But when I first offered, I was at a loss on how to react in the aftermath. Worried and worked up about what I should do. It was easy to forget that I had two more years before I needed to pick, plenty of time.”

Newt nodded his head slowly, it was true. There was a great deal of time to decide. 

“Why not try spending time with each domain and see how they feel to you? It’s not just about compatibility but also, which one makes you happy.”

“Thank you, sir,” Newt replied and the man smiled warmly and nodded before standing and continuing to make rounds, chatting with students easily. Albus Dumbeldore was very famously known as one of the strongest wizards of the generation. More so because his bond was with the life domain, he was considered a wise and good man, a born leader. 

The advice was good and so Newt decided to try to get a feeling for each domain all over again. It was mostly childish things, thinking about his favourite season and time of day. Autumn, when everything was colourful in the forest and the weather was perfect for long walks. Night because it was when everyone else was sleeping and Newt was left to be in peace. 

Newt read up on various personality traits and which domain they usually belonged to. He practised more domain-based spells as well. Lighting fire, making water or a breeze. Minor things that were meant to help him find a connection. 

“Are you really working on first-year spells?” Someone asked and Newt jumped. He was in the common area but he had thought he was alone. A group of students in his year smirked at him as they went by whispering. 

Feeling exposed, Newt left and went walking instead. It was the weekend and the storm had stopped finally. Most students were out shopping and socializing so the school was fairly quiet. But Newt still found himself wandering to the forest. He had to walk in the deep snow but he was still glad to disappear into the tree line and feel at ease. 

“You know, you’re going to get soaked walking like that,” a calm voice commented and Newt jumped. 

The man from before was idly walking, his feet not sinking into the snow at all. They weren’t far from the school and the man was wearing heavy black robes that looked expensive and finely made. He must be a professor, Newt realized.

“Sorry sir,” Newt muttered, staring at the man’s shiny shoes as he walked closer to Newt. 

“It’s fine, come now, draw your wand out.”

Newt obeyed quickly. 

“It’s a simple spell now, to walk without impact. You’ll get around the woods with far more ease that way.”

The man’s voice was no-nonsense but also not mean. He explained the spell words and the wand movements, having Newt practise a few times before trying. 

“There you go,” he said with approval reaching out a gloved hand for Newt to take. Not knowing what to do, Newt accepted and was pulled up onto the snow. He stepped up and his feet rested on the snow’s surface without breaking it. 

“I’ve never seen such a spell,” Newt explained, walking a few steps and seeing he wasn’t leaving any footprints behind. 

“It’s a hiding spell, the fact you’re above the snow is a side effect of it making sure you’re not leaving prints.”

“Oh, that makes sense. Thank you, sir.”

The man nodded his head, his gaze was looking off into the woods. 

“Take care when you’re out here, it’s easy to forget it's a dangerous place and you seem to be out here all the time.”

Newt nodded his head, looking down as he was lightly scolded. 

“Sorry sir,” he muttered, he should be glad he wasn’t getting points taken. 

“No need to look so put out. A curious mind is better than a dull one, just be mindful, the winter months are when the creatures will take any meal they can find.”

Newt blinked, glancing at the man and nodding his head obediently. 

“Good lad. Newton wasn’t it?”

Newt nodded his head. 

“I’m sorry sir, I don’t know your name…”

“Graves, lad.”

As the months went by, Newt saw professor Graves more in the forest, usually walking leisurely. He doesn’t go out of his way to talk to Newt every time which puts him at ease. The man would wave or nod politely and then continue on his way. He never took house points from Newt for being in the Forbidden Forest and as time drifted by, Newt got used to seeing him from time to time. 

The raven and the cat still visited him as well. Dropping off their gifts that Newt now understood were blessings from a domain. He wanted to say they were all from the land domain, but for some reason that didn’t quite feel right. 

He didn’t think much about it, because his life got very busy soon after their second meeting. With the spell to walk on the snow, Newt realized he also made no sound and so he found himself seeing many more creatures about the forest, including the injured ones. He barely kept up with his classes as he struggled to take care of all the poor beasts that needed attention. 

On a colder day, he found a poor bowtruckle that must have gotten lost from its home tree. The poor thing had frost clinging to it. Newt's warming spell didn’t seem to affect it at all.

“Come on little buddy,” Newt whispered to it. But it was curling up into a slow ball, it’s movements slow and sluggish in a bad way. 

“A shame,” A low voice spoke and Newt looked up as professor Graves approached him. 

“Winter can be harsh, most creatures need to learn that at once.” 

“Is there anything to be done?” Newt asked.

Graves held out a gloved hand and Newt gently transferred the beast into his waiting palm. The bowtruckle shuddered and went still. 

“Ah, the little one passed. The pain is over for him now.”

Newt nodded his head sadly. He understood well enough, working with injured creatures. He had seen many of them die over the years, his skill not always enough to help them. 

Graves closed his other palm over the little creature and held it up to his face whispering words into his palm that Newt couldn’t hear. The man bent down, ever wearing well-fitting black robes. 

His hands pushed into the snow and green bits peeked from his hands. Newt thought for a split second that the bowtruckle had recovered but then Graves opened his hands and a tree was growing. Its roots digging passed the snow and into the earth as it’s tree branches rose high. It was a wand quality tree, the sort that bowtruckles lived in. It looked strong and healthy. 

“In death, there is always a new beginning,” Graves offered in explanation. “He can be a safe place for the other bowtruckles who come along.” 

Newt nodded, not sure what to say. But it did feel right. Burying creatures was the usual reaction but Newt also knew many of the creatures’ bodies he dealt with could feed other beasts. But it felt callous to chop them up and turn them into fodder. This seemed like a graceful way for them to help those who lived still. 

But he wanted to be able to release them instead of burying them. So Newt worked ever harder on learning spells to mend bones and help along with healing. 

Enough so that he asked professor Dumbledore about them after class one day. 

“Healing?” the man seemed genuinely surprised Newt was asking before his face hid it away.

“Well, the life domain does focus a great deal on such. I’ve always worked a bit more in barriers and defensive spells myself.”

Newt’s hope fell but Dumbledore smiled easily. 

“I do know a few basic spells however, would you like to learn?” 

“Yes sir, did you have any time this break?” Newt asked, wanting badly to learn new ways to help the creatures in his care. 

“The Christmas break? Aren’t you going home?”

“No sir, I’ll be staying at Hogwarts.”

“Well, that will work out well then. I will be as well, we can hold some classes and I can show you what I know and suggest some books?”

Newt nodded quickly in agreement, already planning how he would fit it into his schedule of minding creatures and studying the domains. 

His family was understanding about his decision to stay at school. It wasn’t uncommon for young wizards and witches to take breaks as a time to reflect on themselves and their domains. Plus it was no secret that Newt hadn’t liked the attention the village gave him with his offering. So he mailed little gifts to his family and settled in for two quiet weeks at the castle. 

Leta stayed as well and they spent plenty of time together, having the run of the school. They hadn’t gotten much time together this fall with none of their classes shared. It was nice to spend time with his friend once more. Leta was always willing to sneak into the herbology gardens with Newt to gather bits of the plants he couldn’t find in the forest. He usually took a few clippings that wouldn’t be noticed and grew his own. Herbs and whatnot that would help him mind his creatures. 

They also got into the kitchens, Newt was on good terms with the house-elves. Leta would sit on the counter and nibble on sweet bread as Newt boiled plants and mixed them into proper potions. The house-elves worked around them and always offered to help with anything they could. They really were wonderful creatures and Newt was happy they were being treated so well at Hogwarts. 

Each day Newt would spend a few hours learning from professor Dumbledore. One-on-one classes about using the life domain to work healing spells. He was a very good teacher and Newt was eager to learn. It was nice to have the focus on him alone instead of a full class. 

Dumbledore also offered Newt advice about picking domains and was encouraging Newt to go slowly and reminding him he had time. 

“I feel as if I should know immediately,” Newt admitted after a lesson, wishing he did know. Part of him was certain he belonged with the land domain. But he couldn’t forget the offering of all the domains. It felt like it would be rude to ignore that. He wanted to consider them all and be respectful. 

“It can be hard,” Dumbledore agreed, sitting with Newt on the edge of the step in the empty classroom, the sunlight shining in through the windows. 

“We put a great deal of importance in picking a domain, not understanding there is no wrong choice.”

Newt frowned at his fingers. 

“I’ve heard stories of people needing to change domains.”

“Very rarely, usually after a traumatic event. I think maybe ten wizards and witches in Hogwarts’ entire history have done so.” 

Newt hadn’t known it was that rare.

“The thing is,” Dumbledore paused a moment. “You’ve been offered a place with all of the domains and in that case, there is no wrong choice. You’ve compatibility with all of them. Any of them would suit you, I believe.” 

Newt sighed out, understanding the words but not feeling them as clearly as he wished. 

“You wanted to go with the land before? Do you still think it would suit you best?”

“Probably? I really like the forest and nature in general. But I’ve realized I also like helping beasts a great deal. Learning how to help them, healing. The life domain might fit better into that. I still want to be a magizoologist either way.”

Dumbledore nodded his head calmly, not seeming to think it was a bad idea which relieved Newt. His family was still hoping that he would outgrow the idea. 

“The land and the life domains have much in common in that sense. But so do others, healing isn’t the life alone. You might find some domains call you unexpectedly, they can be determined when they wish,” the man pointed out, picking up a bird femur Newt had found while walking to the class. He handed it back to Newt who accepted it without much thought. He had a tendency to lose such things all over these days. 

“The death domain for example. People have often misunderstood it.”

Newt blinked at the man, the death domain was often associated with dark things. Most avoided being connected with the death domain.

“Ah, see. I can see that look in your eyes. You know I very nearly went with the death domain.”

“What? Why?”

“We fear death, as people and for our loved ones. We forget sometimes, that death is about the end and the end usually is followed by something new. The domains are a cycle, not merely a line.” The older man offered Newt a reassuring smile. 

“Take the seasons, each one had a beginning and an end. Autumn is considered a beautiful time and it’s when everything is dying for the year. Winter is a magical time when the earth rests but also prepares to begin anew.”

“But death is... also death.” Newt couldn’t think past that. 

Dumbledore nodded his head. 

“Death can be a very dark time, to have to let go of someone or go yourself. It’s only natural to fear our end. But I feel as if you know it more than most.”

Newt shook his head in negative. No one in his immediate family had been taken from him. Older family passed, but that was just a part of time. 

“Do all your creatures make a recovery then?”

Newt blinked. Plenty of creatures had died in his care. It was just a part of taking care of them, Newt couldn’t save them all and he knew that. He did his best to heal those he could and when he couldn’t he would do what he could so they could pass without pain. 

“Part of being a healer is working alongside death,” Dumbeldore noted. “If you want to learn more about healing magic, you have to accept that. I had thought you would struggle with that aspect but you've already accepted it.”

“All things end eventually. Most magical creatures have shorter life spans than we do,” Newt pointed out. He had seen plenty of death within the forest over the years. He had even hunted with Eoin and killed himself. It was a part of life. 

The thought caught, Newt going back to the common saying. Death was a part of life. 

“Oh.”

Dumbledore smiled and nodded his head. 

“You really must pay more attention,” that familiar voice called and Newt looked up suddenly. He was out on a walk by himself. Carrying a side satchel to collect bits of plants and bark that he could use in potions and salves. Given the amount of work he did to help his beasts recover, Newt was more advanced than most in his potion-making. 

Professor Graves was peering at him, leaning against a tree easily. He looked as put together as ever, cutting a nice figure in his fine dark clothing. Hair combed back and trimmed neatly. He reminded Newt a bit that he should be more aware of his own appearance. His hair probably needed a good combing and he was wearing the same shirt as yesterday. It was easy to get sloppy on a break. 

“Pay attention, sir?”

“I could have been a dragon sneaking up on you for a snack,” he pointed out as he walked closer, feet not sinking in. He held the spell with such ease. Newt was still getting used to putting out so much magic. He worried he was straining his parents but at the same time his magic was coming with far more ease these days. He was improving as he went. 

“There aren’t any dragons in this part,” Newt responded and the man smirked at him. 

“You really think that?”

“There’s no sign anywhere,” Newt explained and the older man laughed out loud. His tone amused but not cruel. 

“Well, if you know all,” he teased.

Newt shook his head quickly. 

“I don’t! I just thought...I suppose I thought I would have noticed by now. Are there really dragons in this forest?” The idea of it was exciting. 

“Would you like to see?” Professor Graves offered, holding out a hand for Newt to take. 

Surprised but elated with the very idea of it, Newt nodded and reached out. He had side-along apparated with his parents and brother before. So he knew the feeling as the professor guided them. 

They landed in a different part of the forest, much further than Newt had ever walked before. 

The mountains that had always been far off were suddenly much closer and the air a bit colder. Professor Graves put a finger to his mouth when Newt would have spoken and he went quiet immediately. 

It took nearly an hour of waiting but when the ground shifted Newt took notice. Another little rumble, small stones trembling. Footsteps, Newt realized. 

Graves stood tall and stepped close before Newt could react. The man pushing Newt against a tree and crowding close to him. For a brief moment, Newt thought the man was going to do something lewd. But when he looked up Graves was watching the large rocks off to the side. 

Newt’s breath jumped into his throat and he forgot how close the man was when he saw the dragon. It was massive and slowly emerging from the low cave Newt had missed. The great beast lifted it’s head, sniffing at the air a moment before rumbling low in its throat. After a moment, two much smaller dragons appeared, scampering with youth as their mother followed at a more sedate pace. They were Hebridean Black dragons and the illustrations Newt had seen of them in books did no justice at all. 

The way their scales moved, each breath making them shift just a touch and the sunlight gleaming on them was stunning, like black water. They played a bit, before the mother shifted and shook herself a bit then her wings suddenly sprang out. She rumbled low again, a sound that seemed to reverberate in Newt’s own chest. The little ones taking attention and following their mother as they moved deeper into the forest. 

“They’ll go hunting, and we would be fools to be near them then.” Graves whispered lowly in Newt's ear and he realized they were pressed up close. Newt’s hand clutching at the fine robes at some point. The man stepped back when the dragons were further, not seeming bothered with the contact at all. Newt dropped his hands, embarrassed. 

“I had forgotten,” Graves noted absently. “We need to teach you how to hide your scent, most predators in this world have very acute scenting abilities.”

“Oh, I hadn’t thought of that,” Newt realized. The man must have been covering his scent by being so close. 

“Did you see them though? The way their scales moved? And the sounds! They communicate so easily, I wonder how much they can understand. It’s widely argued.”

Professor Graves snorted and began walking along the rocky forest, moving easily but avoiding various plants and trees, the forest floor heavy with undergrowth in this area. Few people must come this far, Newt thought, walking with the same care. 

“They understand as well as any human, more so even. Most magical creatures have harmony with the world that few humans ever achieve.”

“I’ve thought so as well,” Newt confessed quickly, finding a sudden new respect for the man. It was rare to hear anyone talking about magical creatures as something more than animals. 

“Good for you, most humans are too arrogant, thinking because they've spread the most that they are somehow the better race. Stomping through the lands meant for all and altering it to suit them alone. Always wreaking havoc and yet thinking they’re the ones in best touch with the domains.”

Newt watched the man move, like a predator, stepping with such care without looking, never even rustling plants around his feet and robes. He tried to copy it but was far more clumsy. Newt ended up tripping himself, yelping as he felt forward. 

Graves turned swiftly and caught him by the arm, easily picking Newt up to his feet again. 

“S-sorry,” he muttered, embarrassed but the man smirked at him. He seemed pleased that Newt was trying to move as he had been. 

“It’s fine. Better to try and fail than never try. Focus a bit, not just with your eyes, let your magic guide you as well. Think about moving without disturbing anything, walking with the plants instead of around them.”

Newt had never heard of such a thing, but Graves lifted Newt’s hand up, keeping hold of it. He felt the man’s magic spill over him a moment, his feet moving swiftly suddenly, knowing where to walk without Newt looking. It was considered very intimate to do such a thing, use magic over another. But the man only did it for a brief moment to let Newt feel it before he let Newt's hand go. There was no way he could have explained such a magic either, it was like nothing Newt had felt before. 

It was clear to him that professor Graves was an extraordinary wizard, he wondered if he only taught the upper classes. 

Newt tried to copy the magic but failed over and over. Graves encouraged him, patient and pleased again that Newt didn’t give up easily. But with the new forest around them, Newt was distracted. Stopping over and over to peer at new plants or freeze when he thought he heard new creatures. Thankfully the professor didn’t seem to mind and was content enough to pause and explain what he knew about the plants or creatures. Stopping Newt a few times to wait until some animal scurried passed them. His awareness was utterly impressive and Newt hoped he could react half as well when he was older. 

They walked around the cave the dragons had come out of but didn’t get too close. Graves explained if the beast scented them it would put the mother on edge. But the man paused as he circled it and bent down to dig a bit in the snow and dirt. 

He brought up a single black scale and offered it to Newt. 

He took it eagerly and watched as it gleamed in the sunlight. It felt much more study than they had looked, like stone, even though the scales had shifted with each breath. 

When he offered it back to the professor he shook his head. 

“I've no need for it, keep it.”

Newt held the scale in his palm tightly. 

“Thank you,” he breathed and meant it, such a wonderful gift. Newt knew dragon scales could fetch a high price but Graves didn’t seem to care about that aspect at all. Once more Newt’s opinion of the man went up. 

When the sunlight began to fade, Graves took Newt back to the school. They apparated to the grounds and then walked the distance in which apparition was forbidden. 

“Thank you for showing me the dragons today,” Newt said happily as they walked. “It was amazing,” he couldn’t stop the words from tumbling out, wanting this man to understand how much it had meant to Newt. 

Graves offered Newt an easy smile, reaching out to take Newt’s shoulder and squeeze it lightly. 

“It was my pleasure, perhaps we can go on an adventure again?”

Newt nodded his head eagerly. 

“How can you sleep in all that?” A student, Markus, who shared Newt’s rooms asked him one morning. Newt looked at his bed and supposed it was a mess. He had so many bits and pieces of the forest. All along the bedposts were twigs and bones, bits of moss and stones. Newt had transmuted the headboard into shelves to hold more. Neat lines of feathers, bones, stones, bits of bark. Potted plants growing so he could use them for salves or food for the creature he kept. His hidden study was far more cramped, so many creatures coming and going that Newt was falling behind a bit on his studies. 

Newt shrugged in reply to the student but made a note to clean it up a bit, he might get reported and then he would be forced to move it all to the study. He liked sleeping with his little trinkets. As if they were little gifts that would keep him safe. The scent of the forest was always comforting to him. 

He saw the raven and cat regularly as well. While the raven seemed to have his own place, the cat must live somewhere in the castle. More than once he had appeared and curled up on Newt’s pillow. He had woken up to the cat with him multiple times and never minded sharing. It was nice really and Newt enjoyed the company. Perhaps the cat belonged to a student in the same dorm. But then again Newt had a feeling the large tomcat wasn’t owned. He seemed a tad feral and only let Newt get near him. When Leta got close the cat would hiss and run away. Newt had never seen him near any other students either. He didn’t ask anyone in fear that he would get the cat into trouble. In case he was living in the castle on the sly, pretending to belong to someone. 

So he shared his bed and let other students think the cat was his. 

As January slipped into February and then March the weather began to warm up and spring started to show. Newt spent his time between his classes, minding his creatures, working with Dumbledore on healing, and walking with Graves. The professor had endless knowledge of the forest and it’s fauna and flora and Newt wished he had met him earlier. They would talk for hours, the elegant man explaining things Newt had never read in any book. He knew where all sorts of magical creatures lived and showed their hiding places to Newt. Always guiding him on how to act and make sure not to bother the creatures. It was utterly exhilarating. 

The man also seemed to enjoy having Newt around. Most professors would grow bored with Newt’s endless chatter about magical beasts. Only Dumbledore had seemed interested in keeping up with him. But Graves did as well and even more, he knew more than Newt. He never asked Newt ‘what creature’ or ‘where is it from’ he always knew already. He had an excellent opinion on creatures in that they were far more than just potion ingredients and he took offence at the idea they deserved less respect than humans. 

While Newt liked working with Dumbledore he did recognize that he looked forward to speaking with Graves in a different way. 

So instead of being happy with everything, Newt found he just had to muck it up. 

Because he began to develop a truly embarrassing crush on professor Graves. The man was so dashing though. He was so well taught and willing to teach Newt. And the way he touched him so easily always left Newt’s heart thumping a bit harder. Always wearing his leather gloves but Newt could still feel heat through them. Graves was never improper, never touched Newt without reason, but he was a very tactile man. When he wanted to point something out he touched Newt’s elbow or shoulder, when he was pleased he would reach out and nudge Newt’s shoulder proudly. Never hesitating to lean in and talk softly when they were observing creatures. More than once he had taken Newt’s wrist to guide him or touched his back to silently signal for Newt to move faster. Usually, Newt was put off by such things. But for some reason, it felt different with Graves. It wasn’t intruding at all. 

Newt found that he liked the touching. 

Long afterward he swore he could feel it still, lingering on his skin in a pleasing way. 

Newt masturbated regularly but with running into Graves in the forest so often he had to do so in his bed now. He had long learned the spell to muffle sounds so he could do so without waking any of the other boys. The curtains pulled closed to block out the other students from seeing anything as well. Newt usually kept them closed so no one noticed his ever-growing collection of trinkets so it wasn’t odd at all. 

It was easy to curl up on his side and put his hands down his sleeping pants. His cock always half hard as he closed his eyes and imagined various things. Leta and Dumbledore had faded from these thoughts over the months. Graves taking them all up these days. He was a very handsome man to begin with, with such a charming smile. There was a bit of an air about him, something heavy and powerful. He was the sort of man people respected immediately, Newt could tell. And he was dressed so well, for forest walks he always had on suits that were cut to show off his broad shoulders and trim waist. His robes were constantly fluttering. He always wore black leather gloves but they were thin and Newt could see each curve of his hands in them. The soft material felt so nice when the man touched his wrist to get his attention.

Newt could imagine those gloves, hands touching him, running down his chest. Eyes clenched tightly, he rolled on his back and imagined them. Firm and intent as they spread out on his stomach and moved up, cupping his cheek and teasing his nipples. Moving up to cup his neck and the thumb running over Newt’s lip. 

He shivered at the sensation, squirming as those hands moved lower, down to his thighs teasingly. Slowly working up to run along his cock, fingers gliding over the length as Newt shuddered and spilt. 

He lay there panting a bit, his body still trembling as he relaxed his muscles, his heart still pounding. 

He felt Graves' warm smirk, teasing hands running through his hair. 

Slowly opening his eyes, Newt stared at the top of his bed and wondered if this was what love felt like. 

To wish so badly that his imagination felt so real. 

The black cat padded under the curtain and up onto the bed, purring heavily as it settled on the pillow beside Newt’s head. 

“Hello,” he whispered absently. He had never thought to name the cat or the raven. Knowing they were bringing him blessing gifts, it felt rude to presume they didn't have names. But Newt didn’t know how to ask them. 

Biting his lip, Newt reached down into his pants once more, knowing he could probably get off again. The cat purring heavily in his ear as he closed his eyes and imagined all the things Graves would do with him. 

Newt was so used to students being cold or mean to him that he forgot about it usually. Newt was someone seen as odd, awkward and weird. He talked too much about magical creatures or not at all. He never looked people in the eye and he hung out with Leta. He disappeared into the woods all the time and was never around outside of mealtimes when he was required. He was strange and other students didn’t care for him. Newt never minded, he never felt the need to have many friends like other students seemed to. Leta was there with him and their friendship was genuine. Newt learned from Dumbledore and Graves. Three people in the whole school seemed to like him, but that was enough for him. 

Bullies never bothered him much and when they did Newt didn’t react to it, so they usually moved on. If they escalated, Leta would deal with them quickly. Newt could as well, but rarely bothered with it. People were annoying and he was used to it. He just avoided the problem students and waited them out. Most of the time they got into trouble with Dumbeldore who seemed to have a sixth sense about bullying within Hogwarts.

Newt was very bad at noticing that sort of thing, subtle human emotions. 

So he didn’t notice the boys following him until they were alone in the forest. He certainly didn’t recall them ever sneering at him before or muttering behind his back. Newt genuinely didn’t have time for such nonsense. 

“Scamander,” one of them called and Newt looked back, three students all smirking at him. Newt recognized them from a class but he didn’t know any of their names. 

“Do you need anything?” he asked politely, but knew he should probably circle back to the castle to avoid any altercations. There wasn’t much other reason for the boys to be out in the forest bothering Newt. 

“We’re curious, why Dumbledore likes you so much,” the ringer leader asked. He was a larger boy with short dark hair and mean eyes. “Is it true you suck his dick for him?”

The other two boys laughed in delight, amused with the crass talk. 

“Does he fuck you?” Another asked, a green Slytherin tie. Two Slytherin ties and one Gryffindor, good school unity he supposed. 

Newt began to walk faster, thinking of where he could sprint and lose them. He knew the forest far better than they could after all, he rarely saw other students. 

“Hey,” the lead boy called out and Newt's legs suddenly gave out, stinging as if they had fallen asleep. A hex of some kind. It was rare for students to actually cast against each other and Newt hadn’t been ready for it. 

“We’re talking to you,” the bully sneered, all of them grinning down at Newt spitefully. They were enjoying it, seeming him helpless. Newt thought humans really were the worst. 

His legs refused to get up so Newt just looked to the dirt and settled his mind away from the bullies. He couldn’t fight all three off but he would report them and after he and Leta would get some sort of revenge. Newt thought of spells that would eat all of their school books or slowly shrink their clothing a bit each day. Harmless but frustrating spells. Those were the kind of mischief that was acceptable, not something as nasty as beating up someone in the woods. That took a terrible sort to crave. 

“Listen when I talk to you!” the lead boy snarled, and he grabbed Newt’s shirt collar and shook him hard. Reaching back a fist and Newt winced as the blow hit him hard across the cheek. The taste of blood filling his mouth in reaction. 

Suddenly a crow cawed out and swooped low, startling them all. 

It was Newt’s friend and the very last thing he wanted was for these boys to harm the poor creature.

Newt reached into his robe pocket for his wand, knowing he would have to act now to defend his feathered friend. It was easy to shove the boy back with magic when he wasn’t paying attention to Newt. He went flying, not expecting it and tumbled head over heels as his two friends hooted and hollered. 

“He got you good!” One called and the head boy looked furious for it. Once more they were focused on Newt and ignoring the raven cawing. 

Newt legs were getting a feeling to them, but it was slow going. The boy he had shoved back stepped up and pointed his wand at Newt. His gaze was so dark and cruel, something about unsettling Newt. Something about him was wrong in such a strong way but Newt couldn’t name what it was at all. 

“Imperius!”

The unforgivable curse shocked the other boys, the humour falling from their faces. Newt felt something terrible trying to crawl up his body. Attempting to burrow under his skin, pushing at his nose and mouth to smother him as he shook his head.

The air felt heavy suddenly, Newt couldn’t breathe. His one hand clutched his wand and the other sank into the snow and dirt as he gasped. Tears burning in his eyes as he shuddered harder. 

He could hear cracking, wood splintering and stones grinding. He could hear the raven caw screaming in the background. The magic tried to push at him again and Newt looked up, eyes clashing with the boy trying to spell him.

Their gazes locked and Newt fought the spell furiously, it felt disgusting and wrong, crawling along his mind in a way that felt like such a horrid violation. Magic that felt different was waking up in Newt. Not like when he drew from his mum and dad, something else was answering him. Something strong enough to fight the curse attempting to control him. 

The bullies wand shuddered as it slowly splintered from the tip, his shirt on his arm unwinding as well, magic destroying it as they fought one another. He kept staring at Newt but his gaze wasn’t cruel anymore. 

It was scared. 

The whistle of an arrow was something Newt had learned from the centaur Eoin. So he wasn’t shocked like the boys were when the arrow appeared. It stuck the main boy right in the shoulder and he fell with a sudden cry of pain. The other two looked startled and frightened, turning tail and running as Newt heard the sound of hooves. 

Eoin was there, with two others, all armed with bow and arrows. Moving about agitated as they peered at the scene. Newt tried to stand but his legs gave out. The boy who was shot was laying on his side crying softly. 

“You must learn better control,” Eoin announced and Newt realized he was talking to him and not the boy. “Youthful skirmishes should not end in death.” 

Newt opened his mouth to explain that the bully had been the one to make it serious. But the words died on his lips as he noticed the other centaurs looking around the area. Newt followed their gaze and realized that all the trees had splintered, cracked and broken right down the middle. Stones as well where all shattered and the snow and dirt were pushed back in a loose circle. His raven friend was there safe thankfully but it was clear a great deal of magical damage had been done.

Was this the power of a forbidden curse? But as Newt looked, he slowly realized that the center wasn’t the bully. 

It was Newt. 


	3. Chapter 3

Eoin helped Newt back to the castle. They made the other boy get up and walk. The arrow had only grazed, he said, unmoved by the tears. 

When they reached the school grounds, professors were already coming out looking for them. Apparently, the other students had gone for help. 

“It wasn't natural,” one of them was saying, eyes wide and frantic. “He, he, made the trees break!”

Newt winced, knowing he was in real trouble as Eoin set him down. His legs were trembling but he managed to stand on his own. 

“Hello, Eoin,” professor Dumbledore greeted and the other professors and students who had come to see all fell quiet. 

“These ones attacked Newt,” Eoin grumbled. “He defended himself but his power is too strong for his age. I broke it up, so Newt would not have heavy regrets. But this will not happen in our territory again.”

“Of course, thank you for that. We will remind all students to remain out of the forest.”

Eoin nodded his head and turned to leave before pausing a moment. 

“Newt is welcomed, but him alone,” he added before trotting off before Newt could say anything. 

“He shot me!” the boy cried out once the centaur was far away. “And Scamander tried to do dark magic on me!”

“He was the one who tried to use an unforgivable curse, not me,” Newt refuted to Dumbledore and the professors were all talking at once immediately. 

Newt was taken to the hospital wing and looked at and then he told his story three different times. Two of the boys were lying and saying it was all Newt but professor Dumbledore had managed to convince the last one to tell the truth. Plus they were able to check the lead boy’s wand and see he had indeed cast the dark spell. 

So the two followers and Newt were punished with detention for the rest of the year while the lead boy, Micheal Broodram, was expelled from the school for use of an unforgivable curse. 

Newt slept in the hospital wing the one night and then left the next morning for his classes. Students were whispering about him but Leta sat with him without asking and Newt was grateful for her unspoken support. 

Everyone was whispering about him now. Either talking about the idea that he was doing dark magic out in the woods, or about the idea that he had managed to fight off the Imperius curse, something known to be extremely hard. Newt didn’t like the attention at all. 

When it came time for detention, Newt was surprised when Dumbledore came to fetch him alone. He took Newt to a new place, a large room with various mirrors and strong wards along everything. 

“Do you understand what happened?” Dumbledore asked Newt and he shook his head in negative. Newt knew whatever had happened had come from him, but he could only recall trying to fight that terrible spell attempting to devour him. 

“Broodram attempted to curse you and you defend yourself. A form of sparing but much more raw. You were able to throw him off, but in doing so, your magic spilled out and affected the area you were in.”

“What does it mean?”

Dumbledore offered Newt a calming smile. 

“It means that the domains took interest in you for a reason. You called a great deal of power to yourself Newt. Not from your family bonds, you called it by yourself. It’s very rare to see someone as young as you do so, usually much older wizards can do so in a moment of panic.”

Newt swallowed unsurely, not liking the idea at all. 

“I’m powerful? Was there a domain that helped me?”

“Not outrightly so in terms or power alone, but the ability to become so is there.” The professor seemed to sense that was a reassuring idea to Newt. He had no hunger to be a powerful wizard and gain too much attention. 

“It’s hard to say what happened for certain, it's all a guess for now,” the professor explained as he winked at Newt. Because no one could say for certain that Newt intentionally attacked the students he was saved from being expelled. 

“As for the domain, we can’t be sure, even after examining the spot where it happened. There were no indicators of a specific domain.” 

“So it wasn’t one domain claiming me or something of that sort?”

“No,” Dumbledore explained calmly. “You simply have a strong bond to the domains, in a desperate hour, you called to them and they answered.”

“Called,” Newt asked and the man nodded, walking around the large room. 

“Yes. I can’t imagine that spell that mister Broodram attempted to cast felt good?”

Newt shook his head at once, his stomach turning unpleasantly just from the memory. 

“It was utterly awful. I don’t think I’ve felt anything so terrible before.”

“That’s dark magic. Evil magic. It leaves a terrible taste in your mouth, doesn’t it?”

Newt nodded his head. 

“I was able to take a look at the spot where it happened and I could see there was a great deal of raw potential there. So for your detention, we will be working on spells that require quick reaction times. Barriers and protective spells, so that if you find yourself in danger again you can put that reaction magic into something less dangerous.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt him, only to make him stop.”

“I know,” Dumbledore said and Newt looked at him. That man looked like he truly believed Newt. Having that support felt like a great weight was lifted off Newt’s shoulders. Knowing that at least his professor believed him. 

“Untrained magic is highly unpredictable without intent. So we’ll learn how to direct it.”

Newt spent his spring cooped up inside, spending all his free time learning magic with Dumbledore, casting spells back and forth. Newt never cared for duelling but the professor insisted. Rumours started up right away, people muttering about how Newt really was using dark magic out in the forest. He and Leta most likely budding dark magic users. But they had each other and so it made it easier to ignore. Leta sat with Newt at the end of the Hufflepuff table for meals and they did their homework together in hidden spots. 

Newt’s raven and cat would appear with gifts still and they seemed to tolerate Leta now. Leta was for the most part curious about them but otherwise left them alone. She wasn’t one to bother creatures and Newt did like that about her. 

“I imagine if they met a real dark wizard they would piss themselves,” Leta muttered and Newt shrugged. 

“I never would have expected a student to suddenly use an unforgivable curse, but one did.”

“Did you hear about him?” Leta asked. They were walking from class together and ignoring the looks. 

“No?”

“He died. Caught some sort of sickness at home and passed away on the same day.”

Newt started, looking at Leta as she nodded her head. 

“Everyone is talking about it. They say he must have been mucking in something dark.”

He looked away and thought of the boy’s cruel eyes. It made sense that he would delve even deeper without any school restrictions. Still, Newt hadn’t wished death on him, on anyone really. While he was developing a new understanding and respect for it, he still hoped all creatures were able to live out their natural lives. 

He looked out across the halls and caught sight of Graves looking back at him. He offered Newt a polite nod before walking off. He would see him around the school and while they hadn’t had time to meet up, at least he wasn’t suddenly wary of Newt. He would meet his gaze and smile warmly at Newt still. If anything, his eyes looked approving of Newt, that he had defended himself. 

  
  


On the weekends Newt was firmly banned from leaving the castle as part of his punishment. His attempts to sneak out were always caught by Dumbledore, looking firm but amused each time he caught Newt. 

So Newt spent his time in his secret place looking after injured creatures as best as he could. 

Each Saturday he would spend most of his day there, making new notes on the beasts he was helping and researching how to mend them. 

A little more than a month into his punishment, Newt arrived one day to find a visitor waiting unexpectedly. 

“Professor Graves,” Newt knew he really shouldn’t have all the creatures hidden away in the old stairwell. But he wasn’t supposed to be in the forbidden forest and the professor had never given him trouble about it. 

The man was sitting on the top step of the landing and cradling something. A little niffler Newt had found. It hadn’t been getting better and Newt’s heart sank with the little twitches it was making. 

It was dying. 

“I cast a spell to help ease it without pain,” Graves explained and Newt felt his affection for the man swell. 

“Beasts always give their all, it’s impressive really, that they’ll fight to the very end.”

Graves stroked the niffler, petting it gently as the tremors began to slow. 

“I always thought so too, poor thing,” Newt sighed as he sat beside the man. 

“Nothing poor about him, he lived and he fought, he did his best.”

“He’s young, he should have lived much longer.”

“Life is not a race or a contest. It’s a journey and each being is different.”

Newt shrugged looking away from the beast as it died. 

“I can’t help but feel bad for him. For all the things he’ll miss out on now.”

“You seem to think that death is the end?”

“It's an ending, and it comes too soon sometimes.” Newt had been reading a great deal on death, about the domain. He had been studying all the domains and death was by far the most unknown. It was a common misconception that the death domain was linked to dark magic, if anything it repulsed it. 

Newt had also been very startled to learn that two of the beast symbols of the death domain were both ravens and cats of all beasts. While he had never been completely convinced that it was the land domain giving him gifts, it had been a bit of a shock to realize it had been the death domain. Newt might have been more worried by it, but Dumbledore had spoken well of it and most books did as well. Explaining that dark magic users might favour it but few understood it properly. 

Newt’s raven and cat had never seemed evil either. Even if his cat had a habit of bringing Newt dead birds and rodents still. 

“Could you imagine a life without an ending? Just languishing away without any pressure to live properly. To achieve things, to learn and grow.” Graves asked quietly and Newt peered at him, watching the man cradle the dead beast gently. 

“There are some magical beasts that are thought to live forever.”

Graves shook his head in negative and after all this time, Newt believed that the man would know. His depth of information on magical creatures was truly impressive. 

“All things die. Some might return, resurrect, but to do so they must first give way to death.”

Newt looked at his creatures, all hurt in some way and all fighting to live. 

“If there was no fear of death, no drive to avoid it, what would the world be like then?”

“I imagine...I suppose you're right. It would be a rather sad and pathetic place.”

Graves stood up and Newt looked up at the man, his dark robes and intense gaze. 

“We should go bury him,” the man suggested and Newt nodded his head.

When Graves offered his arm, Newt was caught off guard a bit. Apparition within the school was strictly forbidden. But still, he took the offered arm and let Graves pull him away. 

They stopped in a beautiful open field, snow melting away as spring bloomed. Newt hadn’t realized how much he missed the forest since he had been banned. 

They buried the niffler in a grave and covered it with stones so its body could fade back to the earth instead of a predator digging him up. Newt wasn’t sure what had killed him and he didn’t want any illness spread to other creatures by eating the body. 

Graves moved with a strange grace, setting the dead beast into the earth and helping to cover it. He pressed his hands to the dirt and whispered soft words. Something about them heavy in magic and his fingers caressed the dirt gently before lifting off with the last word. Some sort of death rite. 

“You’re of the death domain?” Newt asked, realizing for the first time. He had never thought much on what domain Graves was, he had always thought perhaps he was the land since he knew so much about plants and animals. 

“I had thought you were of the land but I think now I was wrong.”

Professor Graves tipped his head in thought a moment. 

“Death has always been my domain,” he said after a moment. “But no domain holds anyone completely, we're made up of them all, not simply one.”

Newt supposed it was true, with the idea of cycles and harmony. 

“Did...did you hear about...my altercation?” Newt asked, knowing he should avoid it but wanting to know much more than not. If Graves thought he was something dangerous now. 

The man nodded, not seeming overly concerned about the subject so Newt pressed on. 

“Do you think...well most of the school believes I’m something rather evil now.”

He wasn’t ready for the sudden sharp laugh, Newt starting a bit as Graves threw his head back and laughed long and loud. 

“You? Such a kind-hearted boy and truly good being in league with dark magic?” Graves made it sound ridiculous and Newt flushed, unsure how to feel about that. A warm hand touched his back, moving up to cup Newt’s neck as a blush spread across his cheeks. The man’s hands ever in those gloves. 

“Nonsense. What utter drivel. You know what dark magic feels like?”

Newt thought of the unforgivable curse and how horrid it had felt. He nodded his head. 

“You know how wrong it is, I can see that in you. Souls that take to such dark things are drawn to it. Morbid curiosity, thoughts of power and their own ability to control it. You’ve none of that about you. No interest in harming or hunger to be strong at any cost.”

Newt blinked and felt tears forming unexpectedly. 

“I did harm though, when he attacked me, the trees... and his wand, I was breaking everything,” he confessed hoarsely. He hadn’t told Leta or Dumbledore about this worry. It felt groundless but it held him still. That maybe he was wrong in some dangerous way. 

Graves leaned in and Newt blinked rapidly, thinking the man wasn’t much taller than him. His brow almost touching Newt’s own as he stood close to him. He looked right into Newt’s eyes and the moment felt incredibly intimate. 

“There is no creature in this world that would ever endure pain without fighting. What you did was the most natural reaction there could be. There was nothing evil about defending yourself.”

The words washed over him and Newt sniffed weakly, feeling something give way as he collapsed against the man and hid his face in Graves’ shoulder. He had thought he was handling this better. Newt would endure the scorn of others because he had always been an oddity and had no intention of changing. But that didn’t mean he enjoyed it, that it didn’t cut into him. 

Graves felt warm and solid, whispering soft words of comfort into Newt’s ear as he wrapped his arms around him and held Newt soothingly. 

“You've nothing to fear, worrying about it alone is a good sign you’ve nothing to fear about it.”

Newt nodded his head, eventually pulling away and utterly embarrassed by it, face burning hot. His nose was stuffed up with snot and he felt like a child. But Graves offered him a handkerchief and Newt took it gratefully. He wasn’t judging at all, just watching Newt with a fond look as he pulled himself back together. Newt’s crush only grew deeper with how kind the professor was to him. 

They went back to the castle and Newt said soft goodbyes to the man, not ready to head off just then. Graves' hands lingering on him as well. Touching Newt’s back and waist gently as he pulled away from the older man reluctantly. 

“Thank you...for,” Newt shrugged but Graves understood immediately. 

“No worries my boy, I’m more than happy to help you when you need someone.”

Newt flushed, unable to meet the man’s gaze now. He was all flustered and embarrassed, well aware of the inappropriate feelings he had for the man.

Graves reached out, cupping Newt’s cheek and his fingers were so warm through the leather. The touch felt intimate and a bit more than a professor should be doing with a student but Newt couldn't even think to refuse the warm and kind man. 

“You are very dear to me, Newt. I’m happy to help you in any way I can.”

Newt walked back to his hidden place with a fond smile on his face. He couldn’t seem to make it go away at all. Something about what Graves had said made him so warm and happy inside. 

He arrived at the old door and slipped in without anyone seeing. Newt intended to check on the creatures and go but Leta was there waiting for him. 

“Hello, where did you get off to? Did you manage to sneak off the grounds?” She asked lightly as Newt settled down beside her and began his daily inspections and feedings happily. 

“Yes, just for a bit. Professor Graves helped me.”

“Who?” Leta blinked. 

“Professor Graves, I’ve seen him plenty of times around the school.”

Leta watched Newt for a moment. 

“There’s no professor by that name, first or last, Newt.”

Newt frowned a bit, looking at her. His mind calling up all the times he had seen the man around the school, walking about with no one paying him any mind. 

“If he was a professor here, he would sit at the head table for meals as well.”

Thinking on it, Newt realized he had never seen the man during meals. 

“Have…. Have you been seeing a strange man around the school?” Leta looked worried now, and Newt had no reply. The more he thought about it, the more he realized Graves had never interacted with anyone else, that no one had seemed to see him. 

As if he hadn’t been there.

Newt considered asking Dumbledore about it briefly before discarding the notion. Leta had been very worried about it all and it had taken a great deal of talking to convince her he wasn’t in any danger. If the professor learned there was someone in the school unauthorized, Newt couldn’t imagine it would go over well.

And despite common sense, Newt still felt that Graves wasn’t there with bad intentions. There had already been far too many times when he could have easily kidnapped or killed Newt. They had made so many journeys together, Newt side-apparating without protest dozens of times.

If the man intended harm, he would have done it already Newt decided.

So the next time Newt saw the man, when the classes let out for lunch, Newt motioned for him to follow him. It was easy to find a quiet little hallway and wait. Graves appearing not long after, hands in pockets and looking as if he belonged. Newt supposed that was part of it as well, the man never seemed out of place within the school.

Graves peered at Newt a moment before a slow smirk crossed his features.

“You figured out I’m not a professor, didn’t you?”

Newt nodded his head, clutching his books in front of him like a shield almost. The man looked amused rather than upset.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Newt tried not to sound like he was pouting or hurt by it. 

“You never asked,” Graves shot back. “I wanted to see how long it would take for you to realize. You walk into danger so often without seeming to care, I thought this would be a good lesson.”

“Not caring and not knowing about danger are two different things,” Newt defended weakly. “Are you dangerous?”

Graves leaned into Newt, perhaps to try and scare him a bit. Newt’s heart sped up but not from fear. He looked at the man so close to him and felt the most silly desire to kiss him. As if he could sense that, Graves looked more amused, not pulling away or trying to seem professional. It was wild to think about it, but Newt realized that if the man wasn’t his professor, that meant he could kiss Newt. 

“Who are you, if you’re not a professor?” Newt made himself ask and Graves leaned away slowly. He didn’t seem to be trying to dissuade Newt’s interest in him. If anything he seemed to be encouraging it. 

“I’m me,” Graves replied and Newt managed to give him an annoyed look. The handsome man just laughed, a charming smirk on his face. 

It really wasn’t fair.

“I sought you out, when you made your offering the domains all felt it.” Graves added and Newt was relieved that the man had a proper answer for him. “You’ve someone of the life domain to try and convince you, it’s only fair the death domain is allowed to as well.”

“You came here… to convince me to go into the death domain?” Newt wasn’t sure why it bothered him. Not even bothered really, he was… oddly disappointed.

Graves seemed aware, his gaze going warm and fond. 

“I’ve my own personal interests, you must realize.” he offered and Newt jolted a bit, feeling his face burn red.

“You do?”

Graves chuckled and then ran his hand through his perfect hair, musing it a bit. 

“I’ll admit, I’m not very well versed in courting, but I do like you a great deal Newt. I’m happy when we're together and I would like to explore more with you. But there’s time to sort that all out later, regardless of what domain you go with. I don’t want to pressure you.”

“I had thought about it, and I’ll go with the land domain,” Newt admitted and Graves made a sound of displeasure.

“You already know you aren’t meant for such. You’re too strong for anything less than the life or death domains.”

“I thought it was my choice?”

Graves looked annoyed for a moment before he sighed out and nodded his head.

“If that’s what you wish, then it’ll be respected. You alone know the best domain for you. But Newt, you’ve a powerful gift to be able to connect with all domains.”

“Newt?” Leta’s voice called and he turned to see her turning the corner. “Are you coming for lunch?”

Newt glanced back at Graves and found the hallway empty.

Instead, he saw a far too familiar black cat sitting at his feet.

It was odd to think that the man was at Hogwarts just to see Newt. That he could sneak into the school was a bit unsettling but Newt was beginning to see that Graves was unique. The spells he taught Newt weren’t in any books and when he mentioned them to Dumbledore he had no knowledge of them.

Newt wasn’t exactly pleased that Graves was his cat and possibly his raven as well. More so knowing he had masturbated multiple times with the cat sharing his bed. Was the man an animagus? If so why hadn’t he told Newt about it? Surely he realized Newt would love to be able to learn. All the books on the procedure were locked away tight with extra wards. Someone had long realized that Newt would have a fascination with the idea. 

Leta fretted a great deal about it all, surprising Newt a bit. But his friend was worried Newt was being lured into something deadly. While he knew he should be more worried about that as well, he didn’t feel that way at all. Graves was powerful and sneaky but he never made Newt feel unsafe. If he had some dark intention Newt felt he would have caught a glimpse of it already. 

To make matters worse, word of Newt’s offering had finally reached Hogwarts. Every student and professor watched him with a new interest. More than a few of them had brought up their domains and the benefits of them. Others immediately thought that Newt was being groomed by Dumbledore for the life domain. Either way, he was once more being observed by the majority of the school and Newt was very much done with that. 

Newt utterly disliked it all, he never wanted attention on him. It felt uncomfortable, feeling eyes on him all the time.

“I’ve been meaning to talk with you,” Newt told the Graves cat the next time it came slinking around. Newt was in bed already with the lights out, the tomcat trying to sneak into his bed. 

“And you’re clearly very manipulative, coming around as a cat and not a man after you’ve revealed that you’ve been sneaking into my bed for months.”

Graves meowed shamelessly and snuggled closer to Newt, butting his head on Newt’s shin and purring deeply. 

“Very manipulative,” Newt sighed out but obligingly pet the beast. 

It should have been far more upsetting to him, but in the end, he trusted the man. Even with his secrets. 

“Please stop bringing me dead creatures as well. I’ve long run out of things to do with them.”

Graves gave him a lazy trill. 

“I would appreciate it if you would come find me as a man when you can, I do have a request.”

The cat blinked at him. Newt watched as dark smoke poured off it and it grew, reforming into a man sitting casually on Newt’s bed, leaning over him and looking down. 

Newt struggled not to make a sudden sound. He reached for his wand and quickly cast a silencing charm so none of the other students could hear them. Thankfully the bed curtains were already closed snuggly. 

“I must tell you, the amount of trouble you would be in if you were caught in a student’s bed is very, very, high.”

Graves just chuckled, not remotely worried as he carefully laid back, testing out the bed. Slowly settling his head on Newt’s pillow. 

“No one will ever catch me, they can’t see me,” he assured Newt. The bed was very small and Newt was aware of how close they were, bare inches from thighs touching. Both laying on their sides and facing one another. 

“What did you need?”

Newt huffed out, unfairly amused and fond of the sheer cheek. 

“I was hoping you could show me how to do that actually, hide.”

“A spell to hide?” Graves looked mildly amused, always knowing what Newt was getting at right away.

“You’re able to walk in Hogwarts with no one seeing you, to come and go, to leave,” Newt pointed out.

“I am,” Graves agreed and Newt huffed out, looking at the man. Trying not to be hyper-aware of how close they were. 

“Please, I would appreciate being able to come and go without people with no real interest in me stopping me for meaningless talks.”

The man watched Newt for a moment, considering. He had never hesitated to teach Newt before but this was a rather big thing. Being able to leave the school unnoticed was something that was supposedly said to be impossible. Newt was very curious how Graves had managed it. 

“And what will you give me?”

Graves had never asked Newt for anything before, always tutoring him without expecting anything back.

“What would you like?” Newt asked, trying to think of something that the powerful wizard before him could possibly want that Newt could give him. It seemed as if there was little to nothing that Newt could fetch that Graves himself could not.

“Many things, but from you, I enjoy your company the most. But I will admit, I’ve been curious.” Graves reached out then, running light fingers down Newt’s cheek. 

“I’m sixteen,” he muttered, feeling so awkward with this man’s attention on him. It felt so good but Newt knew this sort of thing was frowned upon. For good reason too, usually the older partner was taking advantage of the younger. Even if Newt didn’t see or feel that way, he did recognize that he was biased as he was enamoured with Graves.

“I’ve long forgotten my age,” Graves replied easily. “And I’m more than capable of waiting. A handful of years will go by quickly. I would never ask you for anything you wouldn’t want to give me, or that you weren’t ready for.”

“So what would you want?”

Graves thought for a moment. 

“Would you hold my hand?”

Newt was caught off guard with such an innocent request, the apprehension that was building in him dissipated at once.

“I could do t-that,” Newt replied, feeling shy but willing to give that. 

Graves reached out and pulled a single glove off, reminding Newt that had never actually touched the man’s bare skin before. Feeling a bit worked up by something so simple, Newt peered at the man’s bare hand. It looked normal, long elegant fingers with neatly clipped nails. No scars or disfiguration. 

“Is there a reason you wear gloves?”

“I don’t want to accidentally touch you. It would mark you for the death domain.”

“Oh,” Newt had never heard of such a thing before. 

“Is it ok now?”

“Yes, I can restrain my magic enough when I have time to focus like this.”

When Graves reached out Newt lifted his own hand, both watching as their fingers slowly brushed. Newt was the one to slowly interlace them, peering down curiously. Graves' hand was surprisingly cold, his circulation must be dreadful. 

Glancing up at him, Newt was caught again when the man was looking at him intently. His eyes were soft and more than warm enough to make up for the cold hand. 

“Do you hold lots of hands?” Newt attempted to tease weakly, feeling far too infatuated as Graves’ thumb slowly began to rub slow circles on Newt’s hand. 

“Not like this,” Graves replied, nothing about it teasing as he looked down at their joined hands. “It’s been a very long time since anyone has touched me. Since I walked and talked with someone. Since I wanted to be seen. I’m very fond of you Newt.”

Newt swallowed weakly, his face burning red as his heart thumped. Having such sweet words and open affection directed at him felt overwhelming but also delightful. Newt pressed his face into his pillow and felt a shiver course down his back. A silly smile was pulling at his mouth and he glanced up at Graves to find him mirroring it with a sweet grin. 

“You’re still in trouble for watching me as a cat and raven,” Newt muttered. 

“You’re worth watching, utterly fascinating.”

Newt hid himself in the pillow, overwhelmed, even as he held onto the man’s hand still.

“I can start to teach you the basic idea of the spell, but for now, an easy way.” Graves reached into his robe pocket and pulled out a silver pocket watch. It was intricately carved with ravens and probably worth a great deal given the detail. Even in the low light, Newt could see that. He shifted on the bed so he could take it without letting go of the man’s hand. 

“What is it?”

“A spell keeper, you just need to click the watch top so it stops ticking. As long as the hands remain in place no one will see or hear you, no wards will sense you, you can move unseen,”

Newt peered at the watch again, it was most certainly worth a small fortune. Such a powerful spell tucked into it. 

“Are you sure I can use it?”

“Very much,” Graves replied gently, his hand squeezing Newt’s. 

“You should go to sleep, you need to rest for your studies.”

“I won’t be able to sleep with you here like this,” Newt replied easily, already knowing it. 

Graves chuckled, seeming pleased with the idea. The smoke gathered around him as he squeezed Newt’s hand once more before letting go and his hand slipping from Newt’s grip. Once the smoke settled a black cat remained. Without prompt Graves snuggled under Newt’s chin as he had many times before, purring in his ear contently. 

“Good night,” Newt yawned, his hand still feeling the weight of the man’s skin against his own.

True to his word, Graves found Newt the next day and began to teach him the spells needed to slip past wards. He showed him how to use the pocket watch as well, taking Newt from the castle for the first time in far too long. 

It was delightful to get out and breathe the air. 

“I don’t think I’ve thanked you,” Newt mused as they walked. “For giving this to me and for helping. For all the times you’ve taught me. You’ve given me spells I use daily now.”

“I’m happy to help,” Graves replied. “I want you to do everything you wish to.”

Newt smiled. 

“I knew so little about the death domain, and I still don’t feel as if I know much.”

“You’ve time to learn,” Graves reassured and Newt nodded, feeling for once as if he truly did.

Much later he lay in his bed, running his lips over his hand where the man had touched them, an indirect kiss almost. Leta would be upset if she ever learned of what they had done, she was still so sure Graves was up to something. But with no one there to tell him what was right and wrong, he let himself smile softly. Thinking of Graves with a great fondness and no lack of lust.

Letting his eyes drift closed, Newt's free hand moved idly on his stomach, fingers feather-light as he moved downward, caressing himself through his sleeping pants. He imagined Graves would be very teasing. In no real rush, no fumbling or anything. He was always like that. Calm and composed in all he did, so put together and smooth. How could Newt do anything but admire and desire him? 

He could easily imagine those leather gloves that the man always wore on his skin. Butter soft and warm as they wandered over Newt’s chest and thighs, working him up. All the times Graves had been close, learning in towards Newt. The feel of his fancy robes and the heat of his body. The way he smelt, something earthy and appealing to Newt’s senses. 

Would be a gentle lover? All soft touches, instructing and encouraging Newt? Or would he take for himself as well, drop kisses on Newt’s mouth and jaw as he pressed his cock against Newt. 

Swallowing an uneven breath, Newt took hold of his own erection, trying to work himself slowly. As if it was Graves touching him, licking at his neck, a hand cupping Newt’s arse and his other lazily stroking Newt’s cock. 

“How does it feel?” He would ask, his voice so low and teasing, eyes intent on Newt as he came undone at the simple question. 

He gasped out, spilling in his sleeping pants and smearing it over his palm. His heart pounding hard as Newt struggled to slow his breathing. He blinked his eyes open and looked to the window open wide and letting a cool breeze in.

The black cat was settled on the window sill, watching Newt intently. 

“Pervert,” Newt whispered, face flushing. He should be upset but he only felt hungrier, wanting to touch himself again knowing Graves was watching him. 

Why was he turning into such a lustful being?

“Is he still following you?” Leta asked when they met up again, hidden away from watching eyes. If it had been anyone else, Newt might have lied. But because it was Leta asking he had to tell the truth. Far too many people in her life lied to her and Leta had always detested it. 

“I’ve been meeting up with him,” Newt admitted as they walked down the hall to their first shared class.

“Newt! A man from the death domain, that’s so dangerous,” Leta admonished and Newt shrugged. 

“He doesn’t feel dangerous, he never asks me to do anything dangerous. Even Dumbledore told me that the death domain doesn’t mean someone is evil.”

“But most are,” Leta added. “My family has always delighted in the death domain, most dark wizards do.”

“Evil and death can be linked at times, but no more or less than any other domain,” Graves explained to Newt the following weekend. They were walking in the forest, meeting new creatures and finding fresh paths. Graves would jump them hundreds of miles into new areas and Newt did love to explore. 

“Do many dark people choose it?”

“It would seem so, but they quickly learn that it doesn’t feed into any sort of dark power. It’s about endings and a balance with the life domain. Most who look into it properly realize that. But it does seem to be a common thought, that death and evil are interlinked.” Graves seemed annoyed as he spoke, his face twisted unhappily. 

“You don’t like that?”

The man shook his head. 

“Having a bias doesn’t help any domain. Believing that the death domain can only be evil only feeds into the idea to fear it. To fear death.”

“Death is frightening to most,” Newt pointed out, walking along the uneven ground with ease. Graves looked as handsome as ever, the sunlight making its way past the trees and falling on him gently. He didn’t seem inclined towards evil and even though Newt was bad at reading people, he was still sure Graves was a good man. 

“Is he attractive?” Leta asked one day, as they sat among the spring trees. 

“Who?”

“The man who follows you.”

“He doesn’t just follow me, we meet up from time to time,” Newt corrected absently. He was long used to Leta asking questions. 

“His name is Graves.”

“So, is he handsome?”

Newt's face burned up and Leta was watching, a slow smirk on her face as she saw the tell. 

“He is!”

“He is,” Newt sighed out, closing his book and giving up on studying. “He’s older but it makes him more distinguished.”

“Do you like him?”

Newt didn’t bother to deny it. 

“He said he won’t do anything improper.”

“Well, that’s probably good. That he cares about such things, how old is he?”

“I’m not sure, he mentioned that he had forgotten.” 

Leta frowned. 

“How do you forget your own age?”

“I’m not sure, but he doesn’t seem very old, close to Dumbledore.” 

“Still a bit odd, but then again, he does follow around schoolboys.”

Newt sighed out. 

It doesn’t come up until they begin practising new spells. Newt has always done well enough, certainly not top of the class, but well. He reads the books and tries to understand them and the methods and theories. He learns best when he is shown, a part of why he liked Dumbledore's classes best. The man always demonstrates for them and encourages them to explore as well. 

Newt has steadily grown with Graves helping him. He’s been teaching Newt wandless magic which is extremely annoying to work with. Most of the time when he tried nothing happened and when he did succeed, the magic was unpredictable. A wand was for focusing, channelling magic into something easily malleable. 

“It makes it far easier, but doing so without a wand isn’t impossible,” Graves had explained. “It takes a great focus and the patience and will to pull magic to you and shape it. You can’t force it, it’s not a matter of bending it, but rather flowing with it.”

“If I’m just going with it, how will I direct it?” Newt outstretched his fingers for a moment and watched as nothing happened. A single rock sitting on a fallen tree before him. His task was to move it. 

“You don’t, it’s more about you moving to work with it.” 

“That doesn't make sense.”

Graves huffed out, peering at Newt for a moment. He knew his frustration had been clear that day. They had been trying for weeks without any real progress. 

“Magic isn’t as simple as you like to think I suspect. It’s not merely energy, not something to be used. It’s everything. Every breath you take and every inch the trees grow.” 

Newt looked up at the old tree the man gestured at. Graves took his hand, his gloves warm as he lifted Newt’s hand to the tree and set his palm flat against it. His own rested over Newt’s as he stood close to him. Newt tried not to get distracted with the man being near him. 

“Close your eyes, focus on finding the pulse.”

“Tree’s don't have pulses.”

“And people can’t fly. Fire can’t be wet, dragons aren’t real. What is and isn’t changes often.”

“How is fire wet?”

“Focus.”

Newt sighed but obeyed, closing his eyes and tried to feel past the rough stiffness of the bark. The air was cool with a light breeze but the sun was hot on his neck, shining down along his back. The moss under his feet had given and Newt wondered if anything interesting lived within the tree. 

“Focus,” Graves reminded him, his mouth near Newt’s ear. His thoughts turned into a prominent awareness of the man at his side. 

“I don’t feel anything,” Newt admitted after a few long moments. 

“Because you’re too used to commanding magic. Taking it. Drawing from your mother and father rather than the earth itself.”

“You need a domain to be able to draw from anything but your kin.”

Graves shook his head. 

“Newt, making an oath to a domain isn’t what grants that. It’s about reaching and reciprocating, most people don’t understand that. You make a pact to the domain you choose and that makes it sacred to you, but if you could treat all things with that respect, magic would answer you.”

Newt blinked, opening up his eyes and looking to the man right beside him, their faces far too close. 

“That’s not how I was taught,” he frowned. 

“I know. Teachings change from century to century. But that doesn’t mean there is only one way to learn. No one is truly wrong or right, everyone learns in different ways. We'll find a way to help you understand that.” 

Newt still wasn’t sure he understood it completely. A bit like potions he supposed, all the various elements of plants and creatures put together to make something more. There were snakes in Australia that could spit a sleeping potion, their bodies developing a harmless way to avoid predators. They had needed it and over time they had evolved to do so. Newt suspected that was a bit like what Graves had tried to teach him, that Newt could learn eventually.

Either way, he had spent months learning to focus his magic and with a wand he found his control had grown tremendously. Before he would have struggled more to call it forth and properly work the spell. But now, he could almost feel the place within him. Waking it up and easing it forward before he cast.

“How did you get so good Scamander?” another classmate asked and Newt shrugged, quietly pleased that at least he had learned something. 

The spell cast came more easily and Newt found his classes were easier to get through. He didn’t struggle half as much as others with new spells and wand movements. Newt discovered that if he focused on his intention, the proper wand movements would come effortlessly, he didn’t need to focus on them. 

“It’s an interesting development,” Dumbledore commented at one class, watching as Newt practised. “You seem to have grasped a concept that cannot be explained. It seems as if you have a muscle memory for something you can’t possibly know, very curious.” 

Newt wasn’t sure what that meant but he was just happy to be learning. 

“If Graves is teaching you so much maybe I should ask him to teach me,” Leta teased when they went on a weekend walk. People had been trying to talk to Newt more. Not only had word about his offering and the domains all answering finally spread around, but the fact that he was excelling was catching more interest than Newt thought it should. 

“There’s been a lot of talk of you, you know? About you going into the land domain.”

Newt winced and glanced at Leta, she was watching him, curious but not judging. 

“I’m not sure anymore. I’ve been thinking I might go into death eventually, if a domain at all?”

Leta stared a moment, her lips parting in shock before quickly closing. 

“Newt, you can’t not choose a domain!”

“What if we can? Magic answers us, even without a domain oath,” he paused to run his fingers over a plant and watched it sprout new leaves with a little help. 

“Because you're drawing from your parents, you know that.”

“I do, but also… what if there’s more to it? I mean, you don’t have a strong link with your father but you're gifted with magic.”

Leta frowned at him. 

“Did Graves tell you this?”

Newt sighed out. 

“Maybe? He spoke a bit about it, that domains should all be respected equally, rather than just one above all others. Magic born people used to use magic like that, a long time ago.”

“Before we learned better.” 

“Did we? It seems like it was just more work for us and people got lazy.”

Leta watched Newt a moment before shaking her head. 

“I’m not sure what this is all about, why would that man want you to not pick a domain?”

“Well, Graves always says he would like me to go into death but he doesn’t want to pressure me. We’ve talked a great deal about the history of magic and I’m just curious about the idea of not picking one domain but all of them.”

“It seems dangerous, Newt,” Leta said finally, a genuine worry in her voice. 

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,” he reassured her. Graves wouldn’t be leading Newt into anything truly dangerous. 

Leta didn’t agree, it turned out. 

“I’ve heard you’ve encountered someone recently,” Professor Dumbledore brought up the next time Newt ran into him. Conveniently after classes with no one else around. The man was very good at that. 

“Who might that be?” Newt asked, wondering how much Leta had told the professor. She wasn’t overly fond of Dumbledore so it spoke a great deal that she had gone to him. Newt wondered what it was about Graves that made her so fearful. 

The man spared Newt a look, always aware when he was avoiding or lying. 

“Mister Graves is just a wizard from the death domain who wants to tell me more about it. Lots of people have been telling me about the domains recently.” 

“What has this man been telling you, if I might ask?”

Newt supposed it would be good to see what Dumbledore thought. 

“That the death domain isn’t dark magic. That it’s about the balance of life and death, the end of things but the start of new ones. He explained that it’s a domain with a bad reputation but that few true followers involve themselves with evil. Because dark magic breaks the rules and harmony of other domains so a true follower wouldn’t like that.” 

Dumbledore listened patiently as Newt explained, the pair walking slowly down an empty hallway. 

“He’s never pressured me either, just tried to convince me. Even then, he said I should learn about all the domains,” Newt added. 

“This fellow sounds fine,” the man began and Newt nodded in relief. 

“But why then, is he a secret?”

Newt didn’t have an immediate answer to that. 

“I don’t think he hides, no one has noticed him really. Lots of students have walked by him and don’t look up, you see.”

The professor paused in midstep. 

“He’s been in Hogwarts?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to add a chapter yesterday?! Sorry.


	4. Chapter 4

After mucking it up and revealing Graves' visits within the school, Newt made the choice not to say anything more. Even when professor Dumbeldore looked disappointed. Once he was allowed to be on his own, Newt went to his hiding spot. But as he arrived he caught sight of Leta waiting and made a hasty retreat before she noticed him. In the end, he decided a walk in the forest might do him well. He used the pocket watch to slip away and he felt a bit guilty for the relief he felt to be out in the forest. 

“You seem worked up?”

Newt sighed out. 

“I made a mistake, my professor was asking about you and I admitted you’ve been in the school.” 

Graves didn’t look remotely worried about it, which settled Newt’s nerves a bit. He had been worried the man would be annoyed with the mistake. 

“That’s fine, it’s good for them to be aware I suppose.”

“I thought you were hiding?”

Graves smirked and shook his head. 

“I wasn’t interested in talking with anyone but you, but I wasn’t worried about hiding away. I’ve nothing to fear or hide.”

“Oh.” Newt bit his lip. “I’m afraid they won’t be very nice to you. Not many people think kindly of the death domain.”

“Which is interesting, don’t you think? All people must meet death, they must all leave this world and step into the next.”

“I think that’s why they're scared, no one knows what waits.”

“What people don’t understand,” Graves began. 

“They fear,” Newt finished. 

“I am sorry, I never wanted to get you into trouble.” Newt thought he should be the one saying that really. 

“May I ask you something?”

Graves nodded. They were walking through the forest now, slow and in no rush. The sun was slowly fading but Newt had long lost any fear of being within the woods at night. More so with Graves at his side. 

“Do you know of someone called Grindelwald? Professor Dumbledore asked me if you had spoken of him.”

“He’s a wizard, he chose the death domain but is perverse within it. Twisting it to suit his needs.” Graves’ handsome face twisted in dislike. “He hopes to cheat death through the domain, the man has no real understanding of it.”

“I should avoid him then,” Newt surmised. 

Graves nodded and then stopped walking, tipping his head to the side as he looked behind them. Newt paused as well and tried to find what the man had seen, half expecting some creature to appear. 

Instead, Professor Dumbledore stepped from the trees, watching them both with a light presence. 

“Hello sir,” Newt offered, very much caught outside the castle and well aware of it. 

“Hello, Newt. You know, for a moment there I was sure you were talking to yourself,” he said and Newt blinked, glancing at Graves. 

“But there is something there, isn’t there?”

“You can’t see him?” Newt asked. 

“He can see me, but only as he perceives me,” Graves explained. 

“Perceives?”

“Like a Boggart, but still quite different,” Dumbledore explained. When he lifted his wand Newt tensed but the professor merely waved it in a revealing spell. Graves watched, a small smirk on his face. 

“He sees what he thinks death should look like.”

Newt was thoroughly confused now.

“I think your friend has their own secrets, Newt, ominous sorts that could be very dangerous.” Dumbledore offered, dropping his wand but not seeming able to clearly see Graves still. 

“What does he mean?” Newt asked Graves, worried now. Dumbledore wasn’t the kind to lie or worry over nothing. But Graves had been a good teacher and friend to Newt.

“I’m not entirely sure,” Graves replied. 

Newt looked back to his professor but he just watched them, still concentrating. 

“It’s hard for him to hear me, not just a whisper of a voice. Just like it’s hard for him to see me, not just a shade in the shadows,” Graves explained, stepping in closer to Newt. “He has the power to sense me, but most don’t wish to.”

Looking between the pair, Newt was thoroughly confused. 

“Are you…” He tried to put the odd conversation together. 

“Are you hiding from him?”

Dumbledore nodded his head as Graves shook his in negative. 

“He’s choosing not to see me. While also trying to perceive me. I imagine his head hurts quite a bit.”

“Perceive?”

Dumbeldore suddenly cast a spell, without any warning at all. The whole area lit up in a brilliant blue light, the trees and ground glowing with it. 

Graves looked different for a moment, his black cloak billowing out and his sharp eyes seeming a deep red. Something about him seeming far less human, his face so blank and still. 

“Oh,” Newt blinked as the light faded away. 

“Are you not a human?” It had never occurred to Newt to think of such a thing, much less ask. 

Graves for a split second looked a bit startled before amusement took over his handsome face. 

“Of course not.”

“Oh! I never realized,” Newt explained, looking back to his professor. “That’s why he can’t see you?”

Graves nodded his head. 

“Newton Scamander, only you would make friends with something so ancient and menacing and not realize it,” Dumbledore said, but he sounded amused now. “Whoever you have found is powerful, but the light of life doesn’t burn him like a dark wizard.”

“Is that what that was? Graves dislikes evil, sir. And he said he doesn’t care for Grindelwald either.”

“That’s good, but your friend must understand that he cannot enter the school grounds freely. It endangers the students.”

Newt glanced at Graves, feeling out of place given that the two men weren’t just talking to one another. Dumbledore stood casual but something about him was still a bit wary. Graves seemed more at ease, standing at Newt’s side with a mild interest in the man trying to see him. He had given magical creatures far more attention in the past. 

“I’m not interested in harming any students,” Graves assured Newt. 

“Why are you here?” Newt asked. “I’ve never heard of a magical creature like you before. Are you a vampire?”

“I’m an emissary for the death domain, I came here for you.” 

Which was exactly what the man had said when Newt had first asked him. It didn’t feel like he was hiding from Newt but more akin to the idea he hadn’t thought to tell Newt he was different. Perhaps he had thought Newt already knew.

“Mister Graves says he’s just here for me,” Newt explained to his professor, realizing belatedly that the man could not hear half the conversation. 

“That’s why I’m worried,” Dumbledore replied, walking a bit closer to them. “You don’t seem to realize what sort of power is standing beside you.”

Newt glanced at Graves and the man winked, making Newt flush in answer. 

“He’s not here to harm anyone.”

“But he’s here for you,” Dumbledore said, with more emphasis on the words, as if Newt was missing something. 

“Yes, he wants me to join the death domain,” he glanced at the man in his black robes for confirmation and Graves smiled charmingly once more. 

“I think it’s fair to say something more has developed between us?”

Newt could feel his face burn warmer but he couldn’t deny that. The hand-holding ever-present in his memories. His desire to be with the man, the creature? 

“What are you? If I may ask,” Newt requested and Dumbledore looked a bit relieved finally. 

“I am a guide between the end and the beginning. There are many names for my role. The shepherd, the pale rider, the reaper, it changes often and it’s been a long time since I kept up with it.” 

Newt stared a moment. 

Oh. 

“You’re death?” 

Graves shook his head in negative and Newt felt his feet find the ground once more. 

“I work for death, I help guide the lost and hunt those that break the laws of death, this is expected of those within the death domain.”

“You want me to find lost people and chase bad ones?”

Graves smirked fondly again and shook his head in negative. 

“I thought you would be better suited to creatures, they get lost as well and need to be guided into the next realm. It’s very rare for them to break the natural laws, however, humans alone are best known for that.”

“Creatures?” Newt was intrigued at once. 

“I had wanted to wait a bit longer to make an offer, let you get used to the idea more, but your nosy professor has pushed us along.”

Newt glanced at Dumbledore and was surprised to find him looking around as if Newt had vanished.

“Oh my, can he not see me?”

“No. It’s not his place to intervene in this. By rights, he should be punished for it.”

“He only wanted to make sure I was alright.”

“That’s why I’m leaving him be. Shall we?” Graves offered his gloved hand out toward Newt. 

Newt bit his lip, unsure. He really knew he should probably say no, Dumbledore seemed really worried about Graves. And Newt had had no idea he wasn't a man, much less some sort of death bringer or death guardian? But the idea of it was intriguing and Newt did honestly want to know more. Graves might be some sort of powerful being but he had always been kind to Newt. They had spent so much time together and Newt trusted him, he didn't think the man was going to take him away to harm him or any such thing. 

So he reached out and took Graves' hand, returning the smile the man gave him in reaction. The shadows from when he changed forms began and this time they reached out for Newt as well. He had expected them to feel cold but they were warm, like dipping into a nice bath.

His vision was only obscured for a moment before he blinked and the shadows receded away. They stood in the same place, the woods looking the same as always. 

Except. 

When Newt peered he realized there were more trees, more bushes and creatures moving about. Their outlines were not properly solid. When he stared enough, he realized they were transparent. 

Dumbledore was there as well. 

With the same faded form and a bit of light in his chest. None of the creatures were close enough for Newt to see if they had that same light. 

Dumbledore’s feet were tied into the earth as well, a bit of demure light shifting through him, through all the plants and the dirt around him. The more Newt peered the more his eyes could see things clearly. The slow swirl of everything, something clinging to everything around them. Even on his own hands he could see it, bits of green speckles and white. Faded reds and blues, yellows as well, just slowly moving over his skin, into it and out, nothing startling but utterly gorgeous in a mesmerizing way.

“What is this?” He asked, turning to look at Graves. 

He was magnificently intimidating. With his dark robes and pale skin, almost bone white. Dark red eyes that seemed to pull him in. There were flecks of feathers in his hair and when he smiled his teeth seemed predator sharp. Newt had always thought he looked handsome but now it was hard to look away from him. 

“Are you scared?”

“Confused,” Newt admitted. “Maybe a bit worried.”

Graves grinned then, letting out a deep laugh. 

“I knew you would be, most would be terrified but not you. Death isn’t your enemy.”

“Well no, we all meet death eventually. Although I do like being alive,” Newt added absently, looking up at the trees and noting how green they were, all the colours seemed a bit bright, everything about the place seemed different in a way, something relaxing and calming about it all. 

“Where are we?” He tore his gaze from the man and looked over the forest again, realizing how far it went. Hogwarts was strangely overrun by the trees, two different things seeming to exist at the same time in a dizzying way. 

Gloved hands closed Newt’s eyes and he felt Graves' chest up against his back steadying him. 

“It can be very disorienting, when you feel dizzy, close your eyes.”

“Ok,” Newt breathed, feeling the man pressed up against his back, his hands over Newt’s eyes still. 

“This is a place in between the worlds.”

“Worlds?”

“The realm you're in and the one after it.”

“What’s after?”

“I can show you, later if you would like?”

Newt nodded his head, still feeling the hands over his eyes.

“Is this where you help the lost?”

“Yes, they can lose their path and it scares them a great deal.”

“And where do you hunt the bad?”

“Between here and the mortal realm.”

“Mortal,” Newt tested the word on his tongue.

He was in a different realm. 

Graves’ hands slowly dropped from Newt’s face and once he felt solid and sure, he peeked his eyes opened. 

They were somewhere new now. A much larger forest than Newt had seen before, overlapping with great ancient trees. It was sunny out and utterly stunning to look upon. Newt couldn’t help but walk, exploring this new world. Creatures of all kinds were about, eating and walking, paying no mind to Newt or one another. All of them filled with a tranquillity that seemed to touch Newt as well. 

“What’s happening to them?” He asked when he noticed. They were fading at their feet, slowly disappearing at different rates, none seeming to notice or care. 

“They're just moving on to the next realm, they're not in pain,” Graves reassured him. 

“The next,” Newt breathed out, walking again and pausing when he heard a soft distressed squeak. He knew that sound well enough to get down on his hands and knees and peer under the bushes. Reaching out, his fingers touched the plant as if it was real and he was able to lift it and find the source of the distress. 

A tiny bowtruckle curled up. 

“Oh hello,” Newt breathed gently, laying on the ground so he didn't seem so huge. “Are you lost, little dear?”

The bowtruckle gave a sad and weary squeak. 

“That’s alright, I’ll help you, did you lose your home tree?”

A sad little wail answered him. 

“Come now, it can’t be too far then, let's find it?”

Newt put out his hand and waited. Patient as the poor thing went back and forth. Ten or so minutes passing before it crawled into his palm. 

He sat up slowly, knowing the movements were new to the beast as he stood up. Graves was watching him, with a warm smile on his face. 

“Do you think we could find his tree?” 

Graves nodded and they walked on, various magical trees throughout the forest. They had to check six of them before one of the bowtruckles on the tree squeaked out in recognition of the one Newt was carrying. It came to the edge of a branch and Newt held out his fellow to climb aboard. They squeaked back and forth a moment, before the one on the tree helped the second up. He clung to Newt’s hand fearfully and Newt made calming sounds. 

“It’s ok, you’re home now, don’t be worried,” he soothed and the little creature finally went, climbing fully onto the tree. 

“You would make a wonderful guide for them, helping the lost creatures.” 

“Is that what you wanted me to do? Find lost beasts and help them find their way home?”

“Help them find comfort, not all would be so easy as finding a tree with an ancestor.”

“Ancestor?”

“Everyone moves at different paces, they move onward in their own time.”

“I’ve heard a great deal about theories after death but nothing like this before,” Newt noted absently. “There are so many different religions, different theories.”

“And they are right in their own making. Faith shapes your afterworld.”

“Afterworld.”

“This is the afterworld?”

“Between,” Graves corrected easily. 

“The after is the next realm?”

He nodded his head, Newt walking again, peering through the woods. Able to walk close to nundu and dragons without upsetting them. 

“Are there others, like you? Reapers?”

“A handful. But they work their own tasks. You alone would be the one to help the beasts.”

“Why hasn’t anyone done it before?”

“Someone did, but as time moved they wished to rest. So they were granted that and the position must be taken up once more. You are the perfect fit.”

“Me?”

Graves nodded his head, smiling at Newt. 

“You.”

“Well, I can hardly say no, can I?”

“Newt,” Graves reached out and stopped him from walking. A lush tropical forest all around them now. “Of course you can say no. You mustn’t feel as if you’ve no choice.”

“Well, I don’t think I do,” Newt denied. “How could I ever pass up such a thing? To help creatures, you know I would love to,” he explained, looking around and admiring all the life flourishing in every direction. It helped him to know that he could stop if he wished as well, that he could accept and still have a choice. 

“How would it work?”

“You would make an oath, promise to do a duty for as long as you can.”

“But what about my...life? Realm? What about Hogwarts and my family?”

“You would be able to return to them, as I do. Spend time as you please when your work is done for the time.”

Newt nodded, walking again, his feet feeling restless. 

“But I would spend most of my time here?”

Graves nodded. 

“You would have a job to do.”

“I’m not even done with school,” Newt pointed out. 

“I had wanted to wait, but your mentor pushed my hand. You were content as we were but he made you ask and once I named myself, the offer had to be made.”

“Is that a rule of some sort?”

Graves nodded his head, walking after Newt. He was still different, with his bone skin and red eyes, watching Newt intently. Seeming to peer past his surface and look right into the depth of Newt. He wondered what the man saw there. 

“Is there anything else I should know?”

“The oath…” for the first time since he knew him, Graves hesitated. Catching Newt’s intrigue immediately.

“What of it?”

Graved huffed out and then a smooth smile came over his face. 

“You would join us by joining me.”

“Join?”

“By becoming my bride, you would become my betrothed for a year and then decide if you wished to marry me.”

Newt nearly tripped, stumbling as his face flushed a bright scarlet. Graves caught him, steadying him and now Newt couldn’t look at his face at all. All flustered with his heart beating too hard again. 

“You want to marry me?” He whispered into the man’s fancy suit vest. 

“Yes, I thought that was clear?” Graves replied, holding Newt in a loose grasp as he replied gently in Newt’s ear. 

“But, I’m just me. Why would you... I thought maybe kiss me or some such, but marriage?” His voice was soft, he thought maybe Graves couldn’t hear him. 

“To be fair, you did offer,” Graves replied and Newt pulled back to look at the man. 

They were somewhere else now. 

A familiar village Newt realized as he looked around. They stood in his home at the centre where they did ceremonies. It was a bit off-putting to be looking at himself. Watching as he held up a crown high in the air in offering. Graves stood at the death stone with Newt at his side and there was a being at each of the other stones, bright creatures made of the elements. Fire and wind, water and land, a bright being of light, all vaguely human-shaped like Graves was. 

“This is me, please accept me, have me, I want to belong where you would have me, where you call me.”

His own voice echoed in the air, overlapping as if it was a chant. The words filled with such desperation, a sweet promise. 

“He should come home,” the land creature whispered. 

“He would do well with me,” the air mused.

“He goes where he chooses,” the water muttered. 

“I want him,” the fire called out. Their hands all reaching out to touch their stones. 

“We can all request but we know where his heart belongs, even if he does not know it yet.” The life being stated, seeming to see the Newt at Graves' side. Something about the life looking upon him made Newt feel vulnerable in a unique way. Being exposed but also knowing he wasn’t in any danger. The light was so bright to look upon, but it didn’t hurt his eyes like staring at the sun would. The presence felt receiving and welcoming to him. But even then, Newt was fine to stand beside Graves. That seemed to please the life, as if it knew. It was a bit surprising for him to realize it as well, but Newt felt it all the same. He was happy when he was with Graves, in a way he had never felt before. Something about him felt right to Newt, as if the best place he could be, was with him. 

The world shifted and they were somewhere else now, walking in a forest as night descended. 

“You offered yourself, and I would have you,” Graves explained gently. “I’ve been alone for a very long time. For many centuries I never noticed. But eventually, I grew lonesome. I wanted someone to talk with. To sit with and to look forward to seeing me. Few people greet me kindly,” Graves said wryly. 

Newt could understand that.

“But I want someone in my life now. To speak with, to hold hands with. I never knew anything like it before. Until I first met you.”

Newt flushed red. 

“When you offered, I had to know more about you, I watched you for days, followed you around and learned all about you. I knew right away that I wanted to be with you. That you would be a perfect match for me. Guiding the creatures is a job you could have but there are many more. Anything you could wish to do I would make sure you could. If you would…” Graves huffed out, looking very old and sad then. His face was tired and worn in a way that made Newt’s heart ache. He reached out and gently touched the man’s face, fighting past his own nerves to cup his cheek as Graves had done for Newt before. 

“I do adore you,” he offered and that won a soft smile from the man. 

“But I’m not sure what to think?” Newt still felt strangely calm with it all, far away from emotions like panic or proper shock. But even then he knew rushing was not the wise choice. 

“You’ve time, I won’t push you to decide right away.”

Newt looked at Graves and he seemed as if he expected this reaction, as if it was a denial.

“I mean, I can’t help but think I’ll go with you. But I should talk to my family first,” Newt explained, feeling his face flush. “They’d be very upset if I didn’t ask first.”

“Of course. Think about it. A week or a year, even longer if you need it. Time doesn’t matter to me Newt. Just consider it and call me back when you're ready.”

“Won’t I see you anymore?” 

Graves offered a sorrowful smile and shook his head in negative. 

“I’m sorry, I’ve made the offer and now I must wait so you can choose clear-headed, without pressure or fear.”

“Oh,” Newt felt let down, so used to the man being around constantly. He knew it wasn’t the most level-headed thing to do, but all the same he felt strangely sure. 

“Well, if that’s the case I will then.”

Graves blinked at Newt, for once looking very caught off guard. He took a knee, going down so he was looking up at Newt. His gloved hand reached for Newts. 

“My darling boy, your risk-taking knows no sense. You can’t just agree.”

Newt frowned at him. 

“Why not? I want to be with you.” He disagreed. Smiling at the man before him. “I’ve never been as happy as I am when I'm with you and don’t want to lose that. I trust you Graves and I know I care deeply for you. If I became unhappy and wished to leave, would you let me?”

Graves looked heartbroken but nodded his head, Newt squeezing his fingers reassuringly.

“That's why I want too, because I know you would never make me stay unwillingly. Because you're a wonderful being and I want to be with you. I’ve known for a long time that you were special. That I could put my trust in you and that it would be safe.”

“Newt,” Graves breathed, looking so astonished. 

“So I agree.”

Newt looked up at the forest and realized he knew where he was. 

“I do need to speak with my family still, however.” 

“Of course, take some time to think on it.”

“I’ve already said yes,” Newt pointed out and the shock in Graves' eyes was slowly fading and a warm joy taking its place. His face so striking when he smiled, focused utterly on Newt. He stood up, their hands still linked. 

“Very well,” he agreed and leaned in to press a soft kiss to Newt’s forehead. It was a brief but warm touch, seeming to echo through Newt’s whole body. 

A very faint cloth fell over Newt’s face, something magical and almost not there. A veil of some kind covering his head. 

“To let you adjust to the idea, while you prepare.” 

The word ‘prepare’ sounded very much like ‘think about’.

“What do I do?”

“Meet me on the full moon, where you made the offer. This moon or the next, whenever you’re ready.”

Newt nodded, reaching up and running his fingers through the veil on his head. It felt like cool silk, soft and delicate as his fingers brushed it. 

“Newt!” Dumbledore’s voice called and he turned to look. His professor coming up through the trees. When Newt looked back at Graves he was gone. Of course. 

“Newt, are you ok?” 

“Perfectly fine,” Newt assured him. 

Everyone could see the veil.

It was a soft white colour with ravens and cats stitched along the edges. There were also blooms of deadly nightshade neatly embroidered into the delicate lacework. The veil went just past Newt’s shoulders and sat without hindering him. When it was down, Newt could see things he hadn't before. Whispers of things walking down the halls, ghosts not clear like others. Hidden rooms stood out to him, footsteps on the stone leading to various places he hadn’t followed. Magic was clear, the shape and intent of it. 

The oddest thing was the way people looked. A soft light working through them, the connection to the stone under their feet. The various domains working through them some with more focus on one than the rest. 

It was very distracting and so Newt was glad that he could lift up the veil and the world looked normal. He couldn’t take it off, just lift the front and flip it over the back. 

No one else could touch it. 

Newt hadn’t seen much of a point in lying so he told professor Dumbledore the truth. About his offering and meeting Graves; their talks and the offer that Newt had accepted. 

“Just like that, you agreed?”

“Was it a bad choice? Graves seemed shocked as well.”

Dumbledore let out a soft laugh and shook his head. They were up in his classroom study, tea laid out before them both. 

“Of all the people I know, I do believe you would know immediately. You’ve always been that sort.”

He couldn’t disagree, Newt typically just knew what he wanted. It wasn’t too often he was caught up in indecision. He had known from a young age he would be a magizoologist. He considered this job offer the same thing. Surely he would study the creatures he helped. He had fretted over his offering but that was normal. And he thought that he had done well, given all that had happened since. 

“You are young Newt, but I believe you make good choices. You’ve never been drawn by power or had interest in it really.”

“It seemed more bothersome than anything else,” he admitted and Dumbledore offered him a chuckle and smile. 

“I suppose we’ll arrange for you to go home tomorrow. The next full moon is only a week away. But you should take time to think about this carefully. I’ve never heard of such a thing before, not in all my travels or studies.”

Newt thought a moment of the place he had been in and the various sensations he felt within those moments. 

“I think that might be intentional. I feel like what I saw wasn’t something shown before. But it wasn't scary at all. It felt safe, it felt like coming home, the same comfort and familiarity of a safe space.”

Dumbledore leaned forward, thinking a long moment. 

“I cannot even imagine. A place between places, realms was it? You’ll have to write it all out for me, if you're allowed too.”

“It’s odd, but I think when people claim to see certain things in those realms beyond, they do see them. Graves mentioned that they were shaped by people’s beliefs and what they expected to see.”

“Fascinating. Utterly terrifying and fascinating.”

It felt odd to be packing early, Newt’s various trinkets covering his bed being put away into his chest. He wondered where he would live? He should have asked that. Was he going to be paid as well, did he have benefits?

“So it’s true?” Leta appeared at the door and Newt waved at her. 

“I’m leaving,” he confirmed to her, pulling down strings of raven feathers from the curtain line. “For now. I think just this summer and then I might come back. Graves didn’t actually say but I’m fairly certain I can choose.” 

“Graves? What’s on your head? The whole school is abuzz Newt, they're saying you’re to be the next Dumbledore or that the ministry is going to execute you.” His dear friend looked so worried now, her gaze on Newt with a mix of apprehension and dread.

Newt curled his nose in distaste for the ill rumours spreading so quickly. 

“I’m getting betrothed,” he corrected. Leta sat slowly on the edge of another boy’s bed as Newt explained the story to her. He let her try to touch the veil when she asked. Her fingers sliding through it without moving it just as Dumbledore's had. 

“Newt...this is. I don’t know what it is even.”

Newt knew he should be more like her, astounded and maybe scared. Even Dumbeldore had been thrown by the story and nothing seemed to startle him ever. But Newt only felt sure, something inside him reassured him that it was going to be fine. That nothing bad was going to come from what was happening. He thought of that life domain creature looking at him and saying Newt belonged. 

Newt hadn’t told Dumbledore or Leta of that. He knew without words that it had been for him alone to see and understand. That the domains were sacred and if they wanted others to know of them they would show themselves. 

That had been for Newt alone. 

“Life after death,” Leta muttered. 

“We all knew there was something, but this… it’ll change the world.”

Newt paused. 

“No, I don’t think it will,” he confessed and Leta peered at him. 

“I have this feeling,” Newt admitted as he packed his clothing away. “That these things happen, have happened and will again. That the world sees what it wants and reacts as it wishes. Some people might think it’s real but others will say it's nonsense.”

“That… does make sense I suppose. There are lots of stories about the domains appearing before people or handpicking others and most people think they're just stories.” Leta looked at Newt again. “But this time it’s real.”

“It’s real,” he agreed. 

Newt’s not entirely sure how, but Leta was let off school grounds to come to Newt’s little village with him. Dumbledore arrived as her escort, which to Newt was very clearly the man being interested in what was going to happen. 

But it was very nice because the professor was much better at explaining than Newt was. He was someone well known and respectable. So when he sat Newt's parents down and explained that he had seen death come for Newt, they believed him. Newt suspected if he had told them, they’d have thought he’d taken a blow to his head and nothing more. 

“Well you can tell this demon that the answer is no,” his mum announced once the shock and questions had died down. “Newt is certainly not going anywhere, much less marrying some man.”

“I don’t think he’s a man,” Newt pointed out. “He can just look like one. And we’re getting betrothed first, not just married.”

“Newt,” his mum looked immediately upset and Newt felt bad as she got up from her spot beside his dad and sat with Newt on the small couch, hugging him close. Everyone was seated in the too-small living room. Theseus had been sent for and his mum and dad had already been home. 

“This is far too much, I had thought, but no. This is just silly!”

“You thought what?”

His mum hugged him tighter and then pulled back a bit, her warm hands cupping his face, ignoring the veil he had on. 

“When you made an offering and pulled out a crown… it's an old superstition that crowns mean leadership.”

“I’m not leading anyone mum.”

“Well,” Dumbledore added, looking at home in the worn old chair he sat on with a faded teacup. “In a sense, you will be leading lost creatures.”

“Yes, well...being a magizoologist and working for...death are two very different things.”

“I already said yes.”

“Well, you can un-agree. People change their minds all the time. Newt, you're barely sixteen.” She explained with a sense of urgency. His mum had always been sensible about things. When in doubt Newt always listened to her and even when he felt sure he held her opinion in high regard.

But this was different.

“I don’t want to. Mum, I want to see him again. I miss him when he’s gone.”

“Teenagers get infatuated, they fixate and then they move on and grow up,” she argued and looked to Dumbeldore who nodded his head. 

“Young love can be fleeting,” he offered mildly but Newt’s mum was nodding her head like he had proclaimed it with far more vigour.

“It’s not like that,” Newt sighed.

“I missed him before I met him,” he tried to explain. To put into words something he didn’t properly understand. He was happy in a way he hadn’t known before, something in him so pleased to be with Graves, craving it. “I was waiting for him without knowing it.”

From the beginning Newt had felt like Graves was an old friend rather than a new one, he had trusted the man and it felt like they had known one another for more than just a few months. He knew he was young for this, but he also felt so sure. Surely this was magic guiding him, the life domain’s way of letting Newt know where to go, perhaps his own intuition even. 

But something in him knew. 

His mum shook her head, unmoved by the odd words. 

“We’re leaving,” she decided, standing up. “We’ll pack and be gone tonight.”

Newt’s dad looked confused still, peering at Newt with such an open worry. As if he didn’t know what to think or do. 

“Come, we can start packing now,” his mum commanded. 

The fire in the fireplace went out and the ground shifted ominously. The air in the room went cold enough to see their breath. The whole house stood dark and freezing for a moment before the fire lit back up and the heat returned as if nothing had happened. 

Leta and Newt’s father looked distressed and uneasy, Dumbeldore looked curious and Newt's mum looked inconsolable. 

“You're scaring him,” Newt said. He wasn’t sure why, but he was certain of that much. Graves wasn’t the sort to use a power display for intimidation. It felt far more like power breaking from fear. “He’s been alone for a long time, he wants to have someone at his side now.”

“Newt,” his mum whispered and Newt tried to give her a reassuring smile. 

“I’ll be able to visit you know, I’m not leaving forever, I’m not even leaving really. I can come and go as I please. We’ll be betrothed for a year, you can meet him and you’ll see mum, he’s not evil, he’s a good man.”

“Oh Newt,” she whispered, tears starting to fall despite his attempts at reassuring her. Newt adored his mother and his family. But he never seemed to be able to think right, always misstepping with good intentions. It never felt that way with Graves Newt thought. They were always in sync, understanding one another without any words. 

As if it was meant to be. 

His family seemed caught between mourning for Newt and trying to force happiness. They spoke gently of ways to escape and hideaway but Newt had no such intention. Dumbledore seemed to understand that and he was the calming presence in the house. More than once he talked Newt's family out of some wild scheme. More so since Theseus had arrived home and was absolutely against the betrothal. 

“They mean well,” Newt said one night when the house was mostly quiet. Save for the soft whispers coming from downstairs. The window was wide open to let the moonlight into the room. 

Leta was on a second bed Newt’s mom had made, seeing no reason why they couldn't share a room. Perhaps she hoped Leta might convince him to refuse Graves even. But it had never been that way between them. Leta was Newt’s dearest and only friend, not his lover. 

“It’s nice that they care so much. About you and your well being.”

“I know. I keep reminding myself of that when they try convincing me I’ve gone crazy.”

Leta chuckled softly, shifting on her bed to lay on her side and face Newt. 

“It is wild Newt, you’re going to marry a grim reaper, your death's bride.”

“I don’t think death is a person so much as an element. And I’m not a bride. I suppose a groom?”

“You know what I mean.”

“Yeah,” he huffed, turning on his side to face her. 

“Did you think this would happen when you made your offering?” She queried, looking at him in the dim light as Newt looked back at her. They had always dreamed of being together as adults, Leta leaving her poisonous family behind. They would still. Newt wouldn’t abandon his first real friend. 

“Of course not, I just thought, the land domain would offer and life would go on.”

“And here we are instead.”

“Here we are,” he agreed, pulling his blanket over his shoulder a bit more. It was certainly not something he could have foreseen. But then Newt had never thought he would see a dragon or go for a walk in the amazon jungle any time soon as well. 

“Would you change it?”

Newt listened to his family's frantic whispering and thought of Graves' warm smile. 

“Might have waited a few more years,” he supposed. Perhaps then his family would have respected his choice. Right now they had all decided he was too young to make a decision for himself and so sought to undermine him. Which was very troublesome and a bit hurtful. 

“Didn’t he say you could wait?”

“I don’t want to. He seemed so alone, I want to be at his side as much as I can. Now that he has offered he needs to stay away until I call him back. I don't want to wait for years to see him once more.”

“You don’t think that’s odd?” Leta asked softly, not judging Newt. 

“Maybe a bit. But when I think of him, I feel happy. It’s as if I’ve known him much longer, we communicate without words and understand each other better than anyone I’ve ever known. Is that what love feels like? Feeling such a kinship and wanting to be close?”

“Probably,” Leta decided. “It has to mean something I think. You’ve never been one to trust easily, but you did with him. I think you have a solid sense of good and bad.” 

She lay there a moment before looking up to the ceiling and seeming to hesitate to speak for a moment before making herself do so.

“My father brought men around once, trying to make me marry them. I swore to him and all those men I would kill myself the first chance I had and would never stop trying, if they tried.”

Newt blinked, he had never known that. 

“I was ten,” she added quietly, staring at his ceiling fixedly, as if bracing for something. It was magical, made to look like a starry sky since he had been a young boy. 

“I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he offered after a moment, not sure what else he could say. It seemed right and the tension in her shoulders faded a bit. 

“I was lucky he didn’t care enough to push. Not everyone is that lucky. Even if this man is death, you don’t have to do this Newt. We would all fight to help you.”

“I know. But it’s not like that. I can’t explain it properly but I know. Graves would never do anything to hurt me. Even if we marry I think he won’t lay a hand on me until I’m older. He just had to ask if we could be betrothed because Dumbledore made him reveal himself.”

“Just know you can change your mind, even after you're betrothed to him.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Newt looked over at his only friend and Leta turned her head to look at him. 

“Thank you, Leta.”

“You’re welcome, Newt.”

Newt’s not sure what he expected to happen. His family was braced for some evil thing and Dumbledore was endlessly intrigued. He had studied the village’s ceremony circle all week and walked the forests that Newt had as a boy. He kept his questions to a minimum but Newt could sense the man was teeming with more. It was clear that he was very fascinated with the veil Newt wore but no one could interact with it besides Newt himself. 

When he wore the veil down, Newt could see more. Not in a physical sense alone. He could hear intentions in words and sense lies on the tongue. He noticed mice in the grass more, every little hint of life brighter than before. Newt tried to wear the veil down often, to get used to the way Graves saw. He wasn’t much sure what would happen but he wanted to try and prepare for it. 

Dumbledore never told anyone at Hogwarts about the marriage and Theseus had reluctantly agreed that the Ministry shouldn’t be involved either. It was something for Newt to decide and the last thing he wanted was a bunch of strangers coming around. Newt’s mum couldn’t be easily calmed and she ended up inviting the whole family and the village to this ‘betrothal’. At least she hadn’t mentioned who Newt was handfasting with and so everyone supposed he was going to be the child bride of Albus Dumbledore. 

So scandalous. 

“Half the village has found a reason to come through here it feels like,” Newt noted on the fifth day. He was hiding in the garden out back, working in the dirt and far too messy for proper tea or anything like it. Leta was off to the side tending to Newt’s creatures on her own. She was making minor mistakes but trying her best. Newt fully intended to care for the creatures he had taken into his care but just in case Leta would look after them. Theseus was helping her but he was more social and talking with people who came to visit, shielding them from bothering Newt thankfully. 

“It’s a surprisingly large village,” Dumbledore noted absently. He was settled in a chair against the side of the house reading a book about the death domain in the sunlight. Smoking a pipe absently and looking at ease with the entire world. Newt supposed he owed the man a great deal. His calm leadership had kept all this nonsense from turning into a right mess. Dumbledore hadn’t confirmed or denied the rumours about them either, so many people thought they were a pair. It made it far easier than Newt trying to explain in any sense that he was to betroth with a grim reaper. 

A bowtruckle pulled on Newt’s shirt and he smiled down at it, lifting it to his shoulder so it was safe while he dug up some more soil. 

“The Marigold family is now positive Newt’s gone and done some trouble that requires marriage immediately to save his reputation,” Theseus announced as he came out the back door. 

“Is there such a thing?” Newt sighed. 

“Your reputation?” Leta asked lightly and Thesus swallowed a laugh. Newt just grinned outright at her. 

“I’m sure I have some sort of reputation,” he defended. 

“Yes, a creature whisperer is one. Mysterious is another, always disappearing. Oh, and a bit of a hoarder, with all your trinkets,” Leta teased. 

“He gave them to me,” Newt explained, feeling a fond smile on his lips. “He left them all for me, in the forest and school. He would bring them as a raven and a cat.”

Dumbledore let his book drop a bit as he looked at them. 

“All of them?”

Newt nodded. 

They ended up bringing everything out and spreading it out, great bunches of feathers, claws and teeth of all sorts, bones, and fur. Dried plants and stones, bits of bark and chunks of earth. 

“This one is a ruby,” Leta announced, setting it down. 

“Sapphire here,” Theseus replied. “You're good at identifying,” he noted to Leta, drawing a small smile from her. Newt might not be one to talk a great deal but his family did know of his school friend Leta and the rough hand that had been dealt to her. They were all being very kind to her without pitying and Newt could see Leta was very pleased with the positive attention. 

“Put them with the rest, there’s still more diamonds than anything,” Newt’s dad suggested.

The family had assumed that there was some method to it all. The components for a spell or potion of some kind. So they were identifying every single thing. Compared to the nights of whispers Newt preferred it. They had the living room area covered and half the things were labelled. Even his mum had taken an interest in the game of sorts. Dumbeldore identifying the harder materials. Naming a clump of dirt from some secret place within Australia or a tuft of hair off a Zouwu. 

“You could make all sorts of potions from these materials,” Theseus noted. “Some of them are extremely rare.” 

Newt clutched the Hebridean Black dragon scale in his pocket and didn’t comment. 

“Did he ever say what they were for?” Leta asked. 

“Professor Dumbledore suggested once they were blessings from the domain?” Newt offered up, turning the attention from him.

“It did seem like that. I would make sense, the bones and precious stone from deep in the earth. Raven feathers as they are symbols of the domain. Most of these plants are poisonous. It’s a very nice collection really.” The man explained easily, his tone taking on a lecturing edge that made Leta instantly bored. Most of the plants were in bottles now, sealed up if they were still harmful. Newt had never shown any ill effects so he privately thought they were quite safe but he didn’t press the matter. 

“Did he ever give you anything else?” Leta inquired, looking at Newt. 

“The veil I suppose. Oh, and the pocket watch,” he recalled picking it out of his robes and setting it on the counter carefully. “A few other nicknacks like that.”

“Is it special?” Leta asked, trying to pick it up only to have her fingers go through it like the veil. 

“Must be,” she breathed. 

“I guess so,” Newt picked it up easily, it felt solid and real in his hand. “It lets me hide and slip past guards and wards, so I can come and go as I please without anyone noticing.”

“Anywhere?” Theseus questioned, looking at the watch with wide eyes. 

“I think?” Newt had never really asked. “I used it to get around the wards at Hogwarts,” he admitted guiltily, glancing at Dumbledore. 

“Fascinating,” he replied. “The strongest wards I know are around that school. Something that can get around them would be very powerful indeed.”

“Is that why only Newt can't touch it?” Leta wondered, looking at his veil that let him see into the other realm. 

“I suspect that Newt is trusted not to use these things for ill intents.”

Newt hadn’t thought of that, looking at the watch. Graves had granted him something powerful and in doing so showed he trusted Newt. But then he probably knew Newt’s only interest was coming and going to the forest unhindered. It had never occurred to him to rob anyone or such. 

His mum made him dress nicely. 

After all her fuss, she had him pull out his best clothing and dress up for the event. 

“You should look nice,” she insisted and Newt was far too bewildered with her to argue.

Newt suspected Graves wouldn't care much but the man did always look good. So Newt should try a bit. But that didn’t mean he had to like it. The clothing was too tight in various spots and uncomfortable. But he supposed being comfortable was the sacrifice one made to look nice. Even if Graves never seemed uncomfortable and always looked so handsome. 

“Are you sure you don’t want to run?” His mum asked one last time and Newt managed a smile for her. They were up in his room, Newt all dressed up and his mum adjusted the suit to fit him properly, redoing his loose tie. 

“I’m sure. It’s going to be ok.”

“I hope so,” she sighed out and then pulled Newt into a tight hug. 

“It will be,” he reassured his mother as he hugged her back, wishing she could feel the same sense of security he did. 

Newt’s extended family were all there, his aunts and uncles, cousins, all of the family on both sides who could come to the sudden secret wedding. The village was all out as well, ever curious and wanting to know what was going on with Newt and his secret betrothal. It was far more attention than Newt would have ever liked and at least Dumbledore was very good at redirecting it all. People were very interested in meeting the well-known wizard and seemed to forget about Newt when the man talked. 

With all the family gathered, it only made sense to have a feast. When professor Dumbeldore thought to invite the village Newt had winced. But he could see the wisdom in it now. Everyone had gathered for a celebration and long forgotten the reason why. People visiting happily. There was a very large selection of food and drinks laid out on a long table down the village centre that just screamed of Dumbeldore but he confessed to nothing. 

The dinner wore on quickly as the sun set and the full moon sat in the clear sky. The stars looked gorgeous and enchanting in the sky. Despite the crowd, there was an air of goodwill and cheer that Newt did like. His mum finally seemed to relax a bit as she sat with her sisters. Slowly the tension and weary edge about his family evaporated and goodwill overtook them.

Laughter roared up, people toasted to each other, musicians playing their instruments in lively tunes. 

It was good. 

Newt slipped away from the table, wanting a bit of quiet as he walked on the outskirts of the village alone. Leta had been taken underwing by Theseus already who was introducing her to cousins who didn't care about her name. Newt had talked to Theseus already about Leta’s troubles with picking her domain and deciding her future. His brother was many things but kindness was one of his strongest features. Theseus would help Leta without expecting anything, would guide her without pressure. If her family threw her out or endangered her, Theseus would be able to help her. Leta was given a new friend and Theseus had someone to focus on helping. They would be good for each other. 

Newt’s dad was in a lively debate with his own brother, he seemed to have accepted what was happening based off of Newt. That his son felt comfortable and sure about what he was getting himself into. That small measure of respect felt like such a great boon to Newt. 

Dumbledore deep in discussion about something with a group gathered and listening intently. Always able to take charge without trying, most of the table paying attention to him. The man had made the event much more easier for Newt and he was grateful for that support. 

His mum was whispering furiously with her sisters, huddled close to them and wearing a small smile for the first time that day. She had strong support to help her adjust, it was a big change to take in within a meer week after all. 

“They’ll be ok, right?” Newt asked, feeling him there before he saw him. 

“They have what far too many forget is vital, happiness and love.” Graves replied. He watched Newt finish the water he had and set the cup down on a stone fence before he made his way to the ceremony stones. Graves followed and offered his hand. Newt took it with a small smile. 

“I missed you.”

“Me as well,” Graves replied warmly. 

Newt paused at the threshold of the stones, recalling at the last moment to remove his shoes so he was barefoot. It would have been rude to do less. Graves watched and when Newt looked he was barefoot as well. Was it odd to feel a thrill at the sight of pale feet? He really had seen very little of the man’s body, always hidden behind impeccable clothing. 

The ceremony stones didn’t react in any obvious way, no big reaction as Newt and Graves stepped between them. 

However, Newt did notice little objects scattered all over the cobblestones. An intricate pattern laid out to form swirling runes that he didn't recognize. It was easy enough to place the items as all the gifts Graves had given him. 

“My family thought they were for a spell or potion.” 

“When I was working, I would see them and think of you,” Graves explained easily. “Always things of nature, pure things. Sometimes from deep in the earth and sometimes just floating in a stream. My mind was filled with thoughts of you, once you offered and I was aware of you.”

“Is that the only reason? That you want me?”

“Offers are unique, they call to us with what we seek. It’s been far too long since someone called to me. Very few people do and fewer still follow through. I’ve dearly missed having someone, I was overjoyed to feel your call.”

Newt hadn’t known that, he had thought death made offers often. 

“I sought companionship, your magic harmonized with me and called me like a siren song. I was lost the moment I laid eyes on you, knowing how well we would suit one another.”

Newt blushed warmly, Graves looking so pleased as he smiled down at him. It did make perfect sense then, why Newt felt so good with the man. Why they seemed to work together so well without ever trying. 

In the centre of the stones was a fire that was lit for ceremonies, a rather large one was prepared as was a tradition for betrothals. But the logs moved aside, floating quietly so the space in the centre of all the stones was cleared. Graved guided Newt and he followed so they stood and faced one another in the middle. 

“Are you still sure?”

Newt nodded his head. Of all the nonsense of the week, this was the only thing he knew for sure. 

“Even without helping the creatures, I would agree. I like being with you, I’m happy to think that of all the people, it’s me you would want at your side.”

Graves smiled and pulled off each of his gloves, revealing his pale hands. He let the gloves fall to the ground and offered his hands to Newt. He took them and felt that same shiver running up his spine. His heart was pounding and Newt was a bit scared, but not of the man before him. 

Even as Graves changed, his warm dark eyes burning with a red depth that went far past what any humans could have. His features growing sharp and taunt, skin pale as bone. Those raven feathers coming back into his hair that wildness about him was more present. His dark robes seem pitch black even in the moonlight, as if they could swallow Newt whole easily. 

And now, there was a black crown above his head, not quite touching his hair but floating gracefully. A simple sleek thing of black stone that devoured the moonlight. At the center of it, was a single white moonstone that New recognized. 

“I made that,” he realized

“I took it with honour,” Graves replied, his voice a rumble now, something about is more of a whisper than anything proper. Newt supposed he should be terrified. But he had seen this man look so lonely and so happy when Newt agreed to their betrothal. He knew Graves. 

“Would you have me Newt? For all the things you offered?”

“Yes, I would.”

Graves lifted a palm and something sharp blinked across it, too fast for Newt to see. Crimson blood poured out and formed into a handfasting ribbon. The wind seemed to guide it as it curled around Newt’s right hand and then Graves’ as well, tying them together.

Graves’ hands cupped over Newt’s hands and turned them inwards, palms facing in as the objects on the ground floated up and slowly began to reshape themselves, twisting into something Newt recognized. The crown he had made in offering, much more dainty and capable of being worn, the features just as fine but different, the red flowers he had picked remade with rubies and the antlers now carved bones reaching out like bony fingers. It was something wild and certainly had off-putting features, a bit grotesque but still everything Newt himself had put into his offering. 

Newt adored it. 

“I would have you, Graves,” Newt said again, his voice more sure, letting the man lift the crown up high and settle it on the veil Newt still wore. 

“Then you are mine and I am yours.”

He couldn’t help but smile at that. More excited than worried about everything that was to come in the next year. He wanted to travel the depths of the world and find the rarest of beasts. To educate the whole world about them. To help magical creatures that were lost and needed to be guided. But most importantly, Newt was excited to experience it all with Graves at his side. 

“When you wish to walk the mortal realm you only need to remove your crown to do so.”

Newt nodded his head. 

“In wearing this, you make the oath to stand at my side for one year’s time and then, if you choose, to stay with me permanently.”

Graves paused and gave Newt a bright reassuring smile. 

“Should you grow weary of an endless life and need to return to the mortal realm and live a simple existence, you have only to give this crown to the life domain to keep for you until you are ready to bear it once more. No domain will be able to find and disturb you, not even me.”

Newt looked up at Graves as the man stared back with such open love in his gaze. 

“When you are ready to bear it once more, you will make it from your own hands and call me to your side once again. You will become my bride, my husband, whatever term you would use, simply by accepting your crown, always yours, and bestowing me with a kiss to show your love reborn.”

Ah, well that made sense. The familiarity and sense of knowing this man for so long. 

Graves' hands slowly slid down Newt’s hair and rested on his shoulders, his eyes lit with delight and jubilation. 

“I have missed you.”

“Me too,” Newt declared. “I waited for you without knowing it.”

“Would you have me? At the beginning once more?”

Newt smiled brightly and leaned in to kiss Graves, pressing his lips to his to seal the pact renewed. 

Much later there would be famous paintings and statues. Books with moving illustrations and charms with written stories. 

Of Newt standing within the ring of stones before a great dark being. With glowing red ferocious eyes that were terrifying to look upon, the face of death itself. Calmed only by Newt’s gentle hand upon its shoulder. His face tipped up lovingly in invitation and the grim reaper unable to do anything but answer with his kiss. 

Death was an ending, but also so much more. It was love reunited, love patiently waiting to find you again, old memories renewed. Smiles shared and joy felt, moments of peace both together and alone. 

Death in the form of a grim reaper was forbidding and terrifying. But within his arms was someone soft and welcoming, a way home. 

A beginning within an end.

**Author's Note:**

> The end!!!


End file.
